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    Poem With a Line from Capital One 

     

    by Nina Corwin

     

     

    The future is standing in the middle

    of Macy’s and can’t find it’s way out.

     

    On the mezzanine, a maze

    of silk ties arrange themselves by hue and design.

     

    According to the voice above,

    a sales associate is needed in cosmetics.

     

    Is anybody there?

     

    I want a gold watch but there’s no one to pay.

    I want an afternoon of splurge and beauty.

     

    Beyond that, who knows where

    satisfaction lies?

     

    Perhaps a little something in black. Organza. Size 5.

     

    Consider something for nothing

    down. Here’s something cozy at a flexible rate.

    Something the children will never grow out of.

     

    The future needs to know: Will it shrink in the wash?

     

    Nobody’s handing out answers. Just layers

    of makeup and artful packaging.

    That’s what you get

     

    from retail. Someone who can sell a hat

    pin to a red balloon. Talk a sock

    monkey out of its socks.

     

    What’s in your wallet?  they inquire.

     

    The future is looking for a sign.

     

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