Sunday, February 27, 2011

Ode to the Mall on a Sunday

O carnival of carnal delights!
Where girls lick phallic popsicles
And boys’ belts are nowhere to be seen
The barker babble tugs at consciousness
A string of 1s and 0s running through tin lips
Lies canned long ago in some booth in Tokyo
Yummy mummies and scummy mummies push in trams
Perfumed papooses who drool and spit up on Gucci naps
Neon lights proclaim the trendy triple priced
Everywhere is bodies and bodies washed and sleeked
You can look down your long condescending adult nose
At this circus of consumption maximus
Until you realize this place is not for us
Us the jaded, the mature, the world weary
The counters of change and days
Those of us who look down at our shoes
No, this place is Xanadu for them
This Aladdin’s cave is for those who look up
The innocent, the immature, the world hungry
The eaters of change and days
And when you see a young, young girl
Wrapped in safety harness and crash helmet
Eyes shining like moonstones in exultant joy
Sling shotted to the second tier and back
By a giggling stoner holding a winch switch
As a young, young boy sits in gape mouthed silence
Knowing he is next to go where you can never go
And do what you are not supposed to
You will know who this place is really for
And why it is not so bad to be here

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