Mahler On Black Friday Poem by Stan Petrovich

Among the fools of commerce
Tempers flare;
Little or nothing makes sense:
Buyer beware.

There are carts loaded with angels,
Spraypainted with silvery dust,
Fictitious scenes of mangers
Down the throats of children thrust.

Somewhere in a forgotten corner
Lies a copy of Mahler's Sixth:
The tragedy of being human,
The suffering of existence,

No one buys the recordiing
As grubby hands envelop candy canes,
No end to all the mindless hoarding,
Stocking up for next year again.