The man with the greasy hair
wonders
as he tries on the shoe
if this is the way life is
supposed to be.
The woman with the overloaded bags
thinks
as she looks at the Star
(at Woolworth’s)
that there were a few too many
UFOs
to be so few.
And the lights turn on
and the gates are raised
and the gates are dropped
and the lights turn off
in the shopping mall.
The boy with the purple hair
notes
as he looks at that new disk
by The Morbid Thoughts
(Nothing More to Say)
that the hair is growing shorter
but the words are the same.
The girl with the golden shoes
asks herself
as she looks at the jeans
on the Special racks
if it’s all worth it,
after all is said and done.
And the lights turn on
and the gates are raised
and the gates are dropped
and the lights turn off
in the shopping mall.
The man in the oversized suit
ponders
as he pours himself another
styrofoam cup
of coffee
(spilling a bit, traditionally)
the meaning of it all
and the reason for stocking
anything at all that isn’t
worthwhile.
The aliens in the restaurant booth
demand
as they rub their feelers together
and never seem to question the
difference
a menu for their dining pleasure.
The waitress nods and
continues her cigarette.
And the lights turn on
and the gates are raised
and the gates are dropped
and the lights turn off
in the shopping mall.
The men with the matching toupees
ask their matching wives
as they try on matching
blazers
(with matching slacks
and matching ties)
if the budget can afford it all.
(Pierre Cardan, Gloria Vanderbilt)
And the lights turn on
and the gates are raised
and the gates are dropped
and the lights turn off
in the shopping mall.
The janitor with the baseball cap
details
as he shuffles along
pushing his tired old
broom
(more, his friend)
the ways in which a man
can commit suicide
and become nothing
without ever dying.
The gal with the sexy legs
questions herself
as she flaunts it all
in front of
Sadie’s Silk Somethings
if it is what she really wants,
and decides that, perhaps,
it is.
And the lights turn on
and the gates are raised
and the gates are dropped
and the lights turn off
in the shopping mall.
The priest in the mismatched socks
waits
as he passes the bridal section
where the mannequins stand
in eternal marital bliss
and asks himself
how far man has gone.
The girl with calliope eyes
explains how
as she points to the
magazines lined up
like soldiers
in the display
she wants to be someone
she knows she isn’t
but somehow things she could be
(if she puts her mind to it).
And the lights turn on
and the gates are raised
and the gates are dropped
and the lights turn off
in the shopping mall.
The aliens, back in the restaurant,
comment
as they finish their
meals
that it was quite the same
as yesterday’s meal
and quite similar to
tomorrow’s.
Though no-one seems to notice.
And no-one seems to entirely
care.
Is that, asks the janitor
of himself,
what it’s all about?
And the lights turn on
and the gates are raised
and the gates are dropped
and the lights turn off
in the ever-present
shopping mall.
(Date unknown; probably mid-1980s; “poluve” is the author)