poem of the day 07.29.14

saturday at the beach

there is a man

with a crucifix full of cotton candy

selling it on the train car home

from another long day at work

as if this were a carnival

as if it were another saturday at the beach

while lumps of flesh

push wrinkled, wet dollars into him

to stop their screaming children

from going haywire

only he can’t get by this obese family of five

taking up half the train

they look like fungus tops sitting

upon bowing plastic chairs

bell-shaped and breathing through their wide mouths

they’re passing around buckets of chicken

spitting pieces of carrion

into the dust and sunlight

caught between the moving buildings

as more children scream bloody murder

waging small wars over soda cans

and i stop everything and think

how men and women have given up their lives for this

how i drink because of this

hard and hot and long from sweating bottles

to forget these people

to forget this summertime america

of new nike shoes

and goombas in wife beaters and plaid shorts

yelling about the wide asses on their women

oh, if only those asses could grow

like pinocchio’s nose

then i could believe in this fallacy

this sticky american dream

as some fat bastard with no future

mainlines ketchup packets

and chokes on another crinkle-cut french fry

his woman wrapped in a

what you lookin’ at? beach towel

hurling cheetos and a 7-11 big gulp into her soul

as the guy next to her grins

with his hands in his pants

pumping

pumping

searching for gold

humming an original tune

this modern day mozart

in a t-shirt that reads

hard work is for the future

laziness is for now.