Old Poem: Looking

I went looking
for my soul
in the concatenation
of theme parks
and the comfort
of fast food chains
i went looking
for my soul
in the fluorescent hum
of office corridors
and in the harsh glare
of the produce section
i went looking
for my soul
with a fishing pole
in august
and after that
and then with a shovel
in december
i went looking
for my soul
in the devil’s dictionary
and the holy bible
i went looking
for my soul
in the mirrors
of morning
puddles of rain
and shop windows
i went looking
for my soul
when there
was nothing else
to look for
a heathen
with a zealot’s heart
i doubt i
would recognize it