Crawling through Macy’s in search

of my sweetness; alas,

wrong store.  Has it eluded

me now, forever?

At my wake will they fear

I’ll stir with retribution?

Gently. gentle, croon.

Step aside, let love through.

Let love where?  What love?

Love of the lost?  That makes me mad.

You see the problem.

There’s an old song, “Looking for love

in all the wrong places”:

Earth, 2024?