catacomb ribbon-cutting ceremony
Rebecca Hochman-Fisher
when graveyards become eyesores
or (more likely) valuable real estate
let’s forge our catacombs out of dead malls
flickering fluorescents abandoned almost desires
eighties neon nineties food court childhood malls
like, skulls pressed against microfiber-glass
store windows, beside mannequins dressed for
twothousandseven fall or twentytwentythree sleaze
escalate past windows of wasted potential
bodies stacked not in the shape of a cross but
the abercrombie moose and yes you can take
a photo but no, flash is not allowed
may we all be equal before Drop Dead Deals
may we all rest peacefully in the old Justice
next to scented tank tops (w/ training bras sewn in)
get out of nowhere
Rebecca Hochman-Fisher
abandoned gas stations &
grocery stores open twenty
four seven & flickering neon signs
advertising cigarettes sold
here you picked up the habit
at some party hosted by some
friend you’ve been meaning to call
before they fade into a landscape
of call to lease signs …
Rebecca Hochman-Fisher is a writer/producer mostly based in Los Angeles but sometimes not. She loves poetry and films. She thinks letterboxd reviews can be poems, but hers definitely aren't.