Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The liquidation sale went on and on and on. Trudging lines of bedraggled souls stretched seemingly for miles. Those soulless carrion birds, with cartfuls of deep discounts, looked you right in the eye, said how sorry they were. The last few weeks, we waited for someone, anyone to buy the last few tchotchkes, fixtures, headless mannequins. America haunted that half-vacant big box store, was embodied in a row of limbless mannequins.
0
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 3:06 AM UTC
The End of American Retail
The liquidation sale went on and on and on. Trudging lines of bedraggled souls stretched seemingly for miles. Those soulless carrion birds, with cartfuls of deep discounts, looked you right in the eye, said how sorry they were. The last few weeks, we waited for someone, anyone to buy the last few tchotchkes, fixtures, headless mannequins. America haunted that half-vacant big box store, was embodied in a row of limbless mannequins.
joseph-s-pete
Written by
Chicagoland
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 3:06 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem