Portrait of the Artist Lost in Target
Where are you Andy Warhol, in all these acres of antiseptics and ointments? Are you hiding under the racks of slacks like a petulant child too cool for his mother? I think I see you, pallid bird with bangs, storking through the wilds of acetaminophen and Vaseline. Or do you linger at the register with etceteras in your eyes, all your discounts and desires belting down the counter? Oh Andy, this is a world made to fall apart. Where is the escalator taking us but down, soup can after soup can, each one of us redundant in the silver gleam?
Photo Credit: Justin Henry
this reminds me of Ginsberg’s A Supermarket in California
You had me at the title! From the first line to the last – I loved every word in every sentence. Congratulations Ryan.
Loved it!