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.