Poem: Outlet Song

Outlet Song

At the outlet mall

we are all connoisseurs

on a delectable voyage.

Versace, Cole-Haan, Malo

Saks off 5th, Karan, Lauren

Prices marked down and

down

the best within reach

for one and all-

20%, 40%, 60%

off---

SOLD1

Every language echoes

Russian, Spanish, Hindi

Korean, Arabic

all in one voice

The thin, the fat,

the swarthy, the young

the old, the hip,

the square, every race

known to man

and perhaps more.

The goods trickle down.

Bruno Magli-

"Aren't those the shoes O.J. wears?"

Beene, Bass and Brooks,

Hilfiger, Klein--Anne and Calvin.

On the promenade

A big chocolate poodle,

leashed,

well-groomed struts,

much at home.

Cozy as

a colonial village

on a hill,

peace reigns,

gentle rock anthems

sound down the avenue,

babies in strollers,

America is at home.

It's Christmas every day of the year

at the outlet mall.

Breasts, bellies, biceps, legs and hips

on display.

Voices in awed tones:

"Versace?"

Ears sprout, noses grow

the braying begins.