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Elise Jackson Dec 2021
"time for the quarterly internet rabbit-hole of your early life.

are you going to spend the next hour looking for pictures of an old mall?

or by finding out the real reason why the first movie theater burned down eleven years ago?

or perhaps look at how your favorite grocery store has changed?

how about we look at the once empty fields that are now occupied by mattress stores?

then will you end it by crying yourself to sleep?
wondering why you cannot remember any of it all?
why you cannot make sense of being a child?
did you ever become conscious before 2012?
are all these hazy memories just dreams?
did you even exist in any of it?

what are you even searching for?"

i want to see it all again.
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Love Is Not Love
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

Love is not love that never looked
within itself and questioned all,
curled up like a zygote in a ball,
throbbed, sobbed and shook.

(Or went on a binge at a nearby mall,
then would not cook.)

Love is not love that never winced,
then smiled, convinced
that soar’s the prerequisite of fall.

When all
its wounds and scars have been saline-rinsed,
where does Love find the wherewithal
to try again,
endeavor, when

all that it knows
is: O, because!

Published by The Neovictorian/Cochlea, The Deronda Review, Better Than Starbucks and Stremez (translated into Macedonian by Marija Girevska)

Keywords/Tags: Love, zygote, binge, mall, soar, fall, wounds, scars, tears, persistence, hope, fetal ball, sob, sobs, sobbing, shake, shaking, throb, throbbing, wince, wincing, smile, smiling, convinced, prerequisite, wherewithal, endeavor, just because

not perceptable inside a shopping mall.
Today is a good day.
Kristaps Nov 2018
Palaces of ****** souls
have green neon text frames
standing sideways like arches;

divine arrows, they guide
the paternal flunks, the tar-soaked offspring,
the lonely and the business bunch.

Here in these palaces, all sin is a freeze, all
lust is a spin.
Fairy lights are often flagged in a net,

to catch mischievous mares flinging
themselves against the glass displays
of overpriced clothing shops.

One finds when wondering the perpetual
lines of restaurants and cafes, the vastness of them
having a motherly touch, for

these palaces, they stretch like the sky and
they spread like the shepherded
fire ants of Gaia herself

And when ones welcome is overbid
they need only to follow  the
evenly laid out,  sorrow yellow street lamps

and bite their cheeks and bare the frost
for soon the polluted lux will lead them to
an overnight joint, a limbo of sorts,

where they can breathe anew.
On those red leather sofas- fast food
or the district kind- when the night seems

to crawl on its final limbs,
they'll lay and slip into sleep.
Some say they never do wake, that they

wither with the moon and then
haunt the attics of the dance halls
where they swirled and laughed and lived

in a previous life.
Steelyvibe Jun 2018
I watch the flicker of lights
They are clear and steady
Blazing out continuously
In brilliant letters

Huge digital billboards
And cold electronic signs
Sending signals to the brain
Of the latest consumer designs

No time to think
No time to digest it
Keep on working
To pay for the transmit

I will buy a new car
And replace the TV
Keep the system rolling
As part of the economy

Stroll around the mall
Listen to the doublespeak
Join in with the crowd
Buy the same as last week

Buy now, buy now
Self autonomy
Buy it replace it
Its good for the economy

Goodbye for now
But you will be back
Customer loyalty
With biofeedback
Based on a short story by JG Ballard, The Subliminal Man
Coffee sharing
Going other people staring
Shopping or old fashioned talking
At the mall.

At a meeting place,
The round table at the coffee shop
amongst the bobbin belles
Of the mall.

Hearing, listening,
Talking at one time
These are warm and special
Moments with an
Urban Friend.
the initial purport
     this literary effort delivered atchew
to reed constitutes hazmat tocks sin
     within White House blew
per, viz thee president be

     getting a Hollywood love story
     with "Stormy Williams" despite brew
haha murmur, now dapper Don in deep doo doo
thus, this garrulous married pro LIX prone papa flew
off (like a bat out of hell)

     to his Macbook Pro laptop presenting myself
     implicating Trump as po' faux guise Mister McGoo
affiliated, confused, and explained
     being on par with Winnie the Pooh
especially stuck right tub bear arms in grr...

     Rabbit's House, now he doth stew
nsync, nonetheless this path a logical
     rhyme stir on the straight and true
composeing grist sill for ye to view

now, nar hating, hit ting
     private links provide attention turned toward
two thousand twenty presidential election campaign
     no Iron nee, anno putter opportunity,

how he diplomatically strived, and nearly scored
     to boast asthma, overt braggart, stalwart
     asper ideal consistency of cement poured
affiliation, aggregation, and attestation moored
prevails ma (Jack booted - magical) lord

     rolling back to Timbuktu progressive liberal
     Democratic initiatives star Apprentice
     sans ("NO LIES") being linkedin, he almost ignored
with voluble chattering class hud hoard

hobnobbing (with the likes of Missus Muir's ghost,
who resort to Matthew Scott's turf brand),
reconstituted, recycled, and repurposed, gourd
nonetheless Trumping protocol necessitates me bing bored
predictable feigned "FAKE" non accord.
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