Poetry Friday: Black Friday Edition

I know that on a busy holiday weekend like this one, we all don’t have as much time for poetic pursuits as we might like, so I’ll keep this one brief and on topic.  In the recent poetry collection I co-wrote with Shane Guthrie, Ouroboros 2, one of the poems I wrote was, in fact, about “Black Friday” itself, the day after Thanksgiving.  I thought it was as apt a moment to share the poem as I am likely to have, and it’s provided for you in full below.  As is the case with all the poems in the Ouroboros (don’t know what an “Ouroboros” is? see this page for an explanation), it appeared without any title, and as is always the case when I share my own work for a Poetry Friday, I provide it without any further comment in the post itself.  If folks have reactions—good, bad, or indifferent—I hope you’ll share them in the comments, where I will happily interact and maybe even explain what I think I was going for.  To the extent that I know, myself.  Without further ado, my Black Friday poem from Ouroboros 2:

I pushed it open. Any way the crowds wanted to,
they surged,
shouting Black Friday instructions to their conscripts,
heaving like a tide into the electronics section
for this hollow holiday,
the day after gratitude when all we want is to carry over
that full feeling
into some other place inside us that remains empty.
And as much as I want to look down on you
as you pass like war-torn refugees
between the theft-prevention gates,
I am complicit in this profane event:
I am trading my time
for something of yours.
Not just money, but something larger than that:
the dignity of longing that is lost by possession;
the kindness we earn
by learning how to live without.