Shoppers ~ Paul Dickey



She is fourteen, not yet

anything, only known

to her classmates by a twist

to her mouth or nose.

One in particular, a boy, 

is fascinated but holds back.

Let us hope he is not

obsessed about beauty.

There is always a fight

between her boy friend

and her best friend –

Parmenides vs. Heraclitus –

Being versus Becoming.

Others in her school

of friends float like fishes.

They too become known,

demonstrate a genius

for fashion, an expertise

on styles just months ago

they called weird, gross.

The Braces sport tattooed waists.

Jeans hang below the equator.

The Platonic Security Guards

note that all we observe

in our universe is change,

ask where permanence,

the true source of happiness,

derives. Newton advises: a body

in planetary motion must remain

in motion, even when it laughs

and sneers. Metal in all the places

makes everything personal –

too much I might have thought,

but perhaps not possible in a mall

where the past, present, and future

of our good earth is fully in play,

where everything on the shelves

seems to be there for no reason

other than it is not yet bought.