At the Mall

Formless winds are rushing towards my death;
I fly upwards effortlessly on the conduits
Lost in regions and depths of minuscule importance
The chasm is deep within this one

The sights confuse me;
I lie baffled on the floor of my mind
Clad in second rate loin cloth
That had to be mine

The mannequins stare at me all too keenly;
The stage is set but I no longer occupy it.
Instead, I yearn to kneel and pray
At the chapel of the moving staircase.

The exit hole is well marked;
It's right next to the bubble gum stands
And lottery tickets and news magazines
And friendly odd salespersons and brown bags.

I fumble for keys deep in my pockets;
The cart crashes past me and the neon flares
As darkness consumes me and I remember
I forgot to buy my chocolate bar.