Meltdown in a shopping mall
The security guards
who circle my son
look at me for guidance.
Their authority has crumbled.
I’m in total control
of these four young men,
three in grey uniforms,
one in jeans, T-shirt and hoodie
thrashing on the polished floor
frightening the shoppers.
I want to tell them they’re in no danger:
I can easily get him to attack me.
He prefers to attack the people he loves.
My son wants two date scones
from Bakers Delight
and to eat them in the food court.
Daay sc-ON! Daay sc-ON! Daay sc-ON!
he chanted from the back of the car.
We’ve aborted our mission
on the lower-ground concourse
Target and Golden Banana
where he’s been felled by
the fluorescent lights that beat down on him
the white noise that roars all around him
the shoppers and trolleys
that confuse and disorient him.
My son’s face has gone from purple to blue.
His squeals are now screams.
Shoppers are running.
The security guards look at me:
they’re starting to panic.
Back away from him, I tell them.
Clear the area,... Read more
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