These people were mostly men dressed in green corn stalks.
Or was it seaweed? I’m not sure.
They rode roller coaster conveyor belts higher and higher in
search of food and a place to shelter.
I’m afraid of heights.
They temporarily adopted me and shared what appeared to be a secret code.
Written in some unknown language on a piece of burlap.
But like a two-step login identification I didn’t quite get it memorized in time.
I was distracted by a rowdy group of Boy Scouts singing “Happy Birthday.”
Huge blocks of garbage rolled by, tightly wrapped in tidy squares.
Everyone seemed okay, for now.
I believed them to be part of the mall teardown as the Prada signage
crashed to the nonexistent linoleum.
This felt like something much bigger was happening like a matrix of sacred vortexes.
Everything was moving very quickly and blending like a mixer high on speed.
Everyday people mingling with dreams from another place and time.
Hopes and desires looking for some consolation.
Among all this I spotted Maria who had just gotten off work.
She was walking in a parade of nicely dressed women.
Women I had loved or had wanted to love.
But not in this lifetime.
Venus in the twelfth house will do that.
We shared a sweet embrace, just like old times.
This feeling always travels well.
I will find her again, or maybe not.
I heard from her friend in the shiva yellow dress that she had another baby.
His name is Frankie.
This makes me smile.
But I digress.
I located the mall entrance or was it the Roman Colosseum?
Gladiators driving bulldozers had finally carved a way out of this maze.
This looked dangerous so I grabbed onto the chariot of steel and hung on.
Fortunately, I saw an old high school friend on a cruise who was helping with the luggage.
They extended a helping hand and added me to the carousel of floating bags.
Maria was tired and so was I.
Waking up now.
A Day at the Mall or Gladiators’ Cocktail Hour by Frankie Laufer
