Mall Culture Is The Only Culture We Have Poem by Raj Dronamraju

In a druggy kind of daze
Three steps from the frozen yogurt shop
Found a new womb to curl up in
And all your favorite shops are there

The man was naked
The man was uncomfortable
And he was no longer content to raid existence like a wild animal
So the spirit of materialism settled in and filled all his empty places

The mall is a nation
With a language and a currency
And they conduct wars of pricing
And they signed agreements for monthly payments

An uncertain refugee pauses at the food court
His eyes are filled with a hollow illusion of gaseous abundance
Seeking citizenship among a people stripped of decency and intellect
He perpetuates their cancer of commerce with his participation

Families timeline their life with Saturday afternoon zombie mall walking
Through the outlets of a dying Western wasteland
Ours is a bad civilization no one will eulogize
With a mouth full of fast food and hands full of discounted goods