SHOPPERS MAKE ME NAUSEOUS

A meaningful conversation

Subdued the huge Toys “R” Us question mark

Standing sun-bleached and sprinkler-dirtied

In our flowerbed

On the patio

Explode your fanny pack,

A clinking most dangerous

The Mysterious:

Its neglect of personal care,

Out of bed-crazed

But sweet, Victorian GPS — it sounds when guiding us

Like singing in the shower.

For it sounds like a wet navel,

Burbling

Pinching bubblewrap its circuitry

Reacts like amoeba androids' collective face-

spasm

Greasy on the fingers of the mind

Of the Lost Stomach:

It cannibalizes Muppets

When nauseous the stomach wears

its plush murder jacket

Crowds make each individual of which it

consists nauseous

Accessibility of the sun's black glow

Like their innermost secret's door:

Toasters both hairy and hairless beneath the cognitive paper parachute

Man, shoppers make me miserable