I steal through the doors to escape the Arctic bite
and feel the warmth of early x-mas drudgery and hungry, red-tag sales.
The mall is packed for a Tuesday,
new-store shoppers with their aching, fat wallets
exploding onto selfish counters for gimme clothes and other wants.
The young and old ramble the wide corridors looking for the best price
as tight-pants wearing college chicks flip their hair for dirty old men and poets.
“How much for your naked necklace encrusted in pasty diamond thing?”
Too rich for my over-exposed credit card.
The mall was once a haven for the poor and desperate.
Now the beggars have a hard time within its extravagant walls.
Michael Britton is originally from Delaware, but currently lives in South Jersey with his wife and three cats.