Hypocritical Dude

I enter the abominable church doors of a mall while listening to elevator music echoing down hallways of painted diversity, of various stores. Maybe I’ll go window-shop and purchase a book?

I stroll around with money in my pocket, supporting the system that I may despise? The establishment cuddles my sweet tooth for french fries and pizza. Afterwards a movie fills a spot on a lazy afternoon, a horror flick fresh after a hearty meal.

Feeling superficial in my heart, I wonder why I am plugged into this worldly infest of salad bars, and restaurants; and a town full of magic lights that buzz on street corners, and concrete-asphalt rivers that run for miles. I’ve traveled in a car, and looked at the random garbage, glass, and pop cartons that litter the edges of highways and interstates, woven from town to town in tangled lines on a map. The traffic on Interstates hums, honks, and screeches.

I complain in distress while waiting for my clothes in the dryer. The news marches across that TV screen and I’m intertwined with the machine. It has captivated me with electricity, and restrooms with indoor plumbing instead of out-houses. No walking through snow 200 feet in the middle of a winter’s night, just one simple flush.

But let me tell you, my feelings of resistance clamor! Tenacious are the glimpses of my imagination and its shimmering temptations. All else is uneasy on this strange earthy day in this minature western town. All around this eerie house, that wind keeps howling!