Malled Wishes

Past the perfume girls, their spray

a weapon. I ducked, finding my way

to the fountain, a forced, public plea.

Beneath the film, what could I see?

Not hopes, just dull green pence,

and dimes gone dark with negligence.

A plastic soother, pink and small,

spun slowly, past it all.

Someone threw a coin, a splash, a blink.

For what? A better job? A drink?

This water, cold and thick with grime,

collecting all our wasted time.