Extract gold dust rising from ashes,
Sell dreams for ninety-nine cents.
Vials of concentrated love line shelves,
Between canned hope and tinned joy.
Doses of patience, pills promising peace,
Both marketed to banish inner demons.
Requests for brains, a waiting list for hearts,
All delayed, yet plenty of corrosive regret.
Scan aisles for a formula for success
Or a pick-me-up to induce euphoria.
Two for one deal on evaporated sadness
And a sale on bottled up good fortune.
Twenty-five percent off this mason jar
Of a corroborated solution of courage.
Swears this elixir of optimism is a cure-all,
The most sought-after product this season.
The owner says this just arrived the other day
Pointing to the display of measured beauty.
Tells you it is very popular overseas, then tries
To interest you in a draught of glorious fame.
Overheard someone asking for an antidote,
A balm to cool burns from raging anger.
Another enquires about a concoction,
That reduces fear, quells worries.
A bell rings as you leave,
Purse strings tighten again,
The coin heap feels lighter,
Striped paper bag in hand,
Holding a precious cargo,
A box of faith, of placed trust.
