Men Holding Their Wives' Purses Poem by jackilton peachum

Oh, I've seen them at the Mall, standing around,
looking the most miserable of creatures,
eyes glazed with obedience,
in a cause they don't understand.

Now, where's the Goddess of Shopping?
Where‘s the She for whom we must pine-in-wait, the extra-terrestrial of Macy's and Bloomingdales?

Has she disappeared into the air above the escalator?
Can she be found among the shoes, the handbags, sweet soaps,
the feminine products of the cosmetics counter?

No, she's gone into the ghost of Saturday mornings lost,
remembered times when life was young and strong and we awaited only the Godof Good Fortune to come round the corner.