Portrait of the Artist Lost in Target

Image of a Target shopping cart on the escalator.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?


Ryan Griffith’s fiction has appeared in Fiction Southeast, NANO fiction, and The Wigleaf Top 50 Very Short Stories. He runs a multimedia narrative installation called Relics of the Hypnotist War.

Photo Credit: Justin Henry

3 Responses to “Portrait of the Artist Lost in Target”

  1. Fiazah Majeed says:

    this reminds me of Ginsberg’s A Supermarket in California

  2. Mara says:

    You had me at the title! From the first line to the last – I loved every word in every sentence. Congratulations Ryan.

  3. Elijah Johnson says:

    Loved it!

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