A Pome a Day for a Year

See through rocks coloured pink
and nothing make up this whole shelf,
(well, probably a cabinet
which is a collection of shelving units
and holds all the junk,)
and the store lights are doing
a little sashay through the prisms
and I am stuck staring,
eye locked like a cat
to a bird.

I am not capturing or hunting rocks,
that is for someone who loves geology
a geologist perhaps,
I was merely window shopping
because keeping your attention fixed
on the objects at hand
is a menace in today’s mallworld.

Everything has to grab your mind
and the colours flash
and the sounds confound
and like a looney tune attracted
by the whiff of tasty pie,
I am led by the angels of commerce
around this gathering centre
not knowing how the body is rocking.