“I walked through the empty lot

the enormous empty lot

towards the store beckoning me, soon I

turned my back

on every now forgotten unit. Get yours

I said. Get yours.

And I kept mine in ghost capital.”

—From “Fuchsine,” by UChicago Creative Writing chair John Wilkinson.

Read the full poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/58782/fuchsine