Dead Mall

Let’s go into a dark movie theater.    Where no films run anymore.   And wait
for something to happen.  Vines will grow over our heebie-jeebies.   In a dead mall they play “Siouxsie and the Banshees”    Oh Ooooh oh. Your city lies in dust.

My friend.        The dead mall is the size of a battleship your grandma prayed to.

Pieces of popcorn balls dropped through an escalator (1991.)    Still hope to be found down there with Freddie Krueger.   R.I.P. Wes Craven.  That was Tru Value
hardware horror.    R.E.M. muzak keeps the plants alive.     “Why not smile?”

Michael Stipe virtually sobs at fronds of ferns.  Palms.  He’s on Tumblr right now.
These are his usual hours.     Gardening at night.     Down in Athens
or Paris or somewhere like that.     He also likes Target stores

which he buys in the middle of the night.     Out from under Iowa or Nebraska.

You know who I mean.     He’s like Morrissey.    Just a little snarlier.    Ascots.

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