Of Chinese merchants sly and wise,
A murky Wind doth cloud our eyes,
No more shall foreign souls perceive,
Their shopping trends and images they leave.
A cunning ploy, these modern spies,
To track their spouse and sneak, descry:
"What hath he at the midday Inn?"
A question fraught with secret sin.
Now Alo Yoga shines, ascends,
With garments sleek, their game transcends,
As saints and sinners garbed alike,
Defeat’st the Nike and Lulu in the fight.
