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.