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.