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A dead and dying mall
There's something eerily pleasing
about a dying mall,
wheezing away
it's death rattle in
the throes of death.
The tiny pockets of dead air, light
and activity, all inviting indoor
outdoor fixtures.
The kiosk workers still smile.
They've succumbed to the stillness
of life and drink heavily from the
skull of apathy.
The worms that
churn their innards
and burrow dark,
bring forth the
most honorable
flowers.
-Ray Strickland
12/03/19 4:19 PM
