Department Store

To swallow the world before                             it swallows us, why shopping

              gladdens the heart. This palace,                             giant cubist cupcake, frontier

that feels like a poem about          everything. Escalators deliver

                    our giraffing necks in honeyed                    waves. We’re so many faces

with lustful topographies, credit cards       in our holsters all in the high beams of stuff

displayed exponentially. Decapitated mannequins              hum anthems as their                                                                                                 fingers point

the way. So many labyrinths            racks of chainmail & glistening

            counters of magic potions declare                the deepest deep of discount.

It’s a pagan chant of neckties                                               splayed across lucite tables,

                           the many altars of brave                  stilettos, felted pom-pom trivets

& astronaut lunchbags                          claiming that their whole selves freeze.

               Pan’s midnight flute our Muzak,                 chattering buck moons at

every

make-up mirror has us blooming                     before our leaves are destined to fall.

          Clearance racks packed tight                & spilling last chances,

deep-pile couches                & big cabbage roses lure us into bathroom lounges

     of movie-set lavish                to flaunt our bounty.                And then

when we finally depart this multi-tiered Mecca         through doors that spin into                                                                                 concrete towers

        we pause to ponder                  which plane of existence                 we parked on.