
These days my body is a mall from
the 1990s -- fallen cathedral -- promenade
and terrazzo gaping mouth of Claire’s
desiccated fountain caked with lime
escalator halted register and receipt
tile and glass and scalloped shell
of mouldering lace a place echoing unvisited
burnt cinnamon a barber pole spinning beside
a pet store misdirection and self-deceit
empty hamster cages and dry aquariums
tubes going everywhere at once
unexplained pair of clippers plugged
into a sagging outlet collection of sour
castoffs -- an obsolescence.
Image by Fons Heijnsbroek.