Poem about a failed attempt to get inc stocked in a cool shop.

I walked into the shop selling vintage reissue 70's space hoppers,
And talked to a man sat twittering in purple shorts,
Smirking with each tweet,
And a plastic bow and arrow placed beneath his feet.

I handed him the magazine,
He said, "yeeeeeaah, the thing is, I don't really like poetry".

I thought,

No.

You like toys.