The Truth About Tigers

Compelled by my usual procrastination,
and needing a jacket and tie for a Saturday wedding,
I wandered into a mall—
a relic, still hanging on in the Amazon era.

Heading toward Macy’s, that familiar anchor,
its bright red star against the dark,
I was struck by how easily
it passed for a communist emblem.

My mind drifted.
I imagined the door guards
as soldiers from the People’s Liberation Army.
Che Guevara, wispy beard and black beret intact,
manned the perfume counter.
Erich Mielke watched shoppers
through the unblinking eyes of security cameras.

Lenin stood at customer service,
accepting returns.
Mao Zedong stocked shelves, methodical as ever.
Trotsky advised men on suits,
not revolutions.

The spell broke as I stepped inside
the Temple of Late Stage Capitalism,
greeted by smiling employees
and shoppers slowed
by Thursday’s feast,
drawn by victory sales
and giant inflatables.