Speak to me. Don't cast me out and leave.
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Where, Oh Where, Did The Mall-Lady Go?
They wanted her to drop her thoughts
As naturally as her underpants fell, after they were
Over the hips, so the steaming winds of her daily
showers
Could clear her of encroaching stain
As she had been cleared away.
They were a function, ignorant of their thinking,
charting
Charts. She felt she would have to ignore these
doctors and
Nurses in the mental ward.
She would have to ignore the pacing patients
Asking cigarettes from her.
The hall was rectangular.
Everyone moved rectangularly.
She would go to dreams of past realities
Where she was watching the shoppers' reflections
As they passed mall's little fountains--
Different types of people-reflections but all silvery
In the still of the waters,
Happy and part of the lives of the mall.
She would imagine herself sitting on a metal bench--
packages of her new clothing pulling on arms and chest
Like the recalling torpor that came more easily
To her lower legs; the weight of the mink that arched
Her aching shoulders more like a lady;
And a small sack of chocolate stars
Touching her upper neck--
Wondering what packages her fellow-creatures
Bought to be brought home and to whom
They brought them to.
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