poem of the day 06.30.15

all hail the american bro

in the used cd store

            --for ben john smith

with his white sports coat

that has the american flag pinned to the lapel

with his bad cologne

his hair slicked back and his spray-on tan

wearing his shades in the used cd store

with his cell phone pressed to his ear

talking to some dude named, chris

with his ability to ooze through an aisle

bitching about how big his house in jersey is

with the way he tells chris

but, bro, we got a sweet deal on the place

with the way he cautions

is his boy getting married for love

or just because it’s the next step?

for his candor in admitting to everyone

that his wedding was his wife’s idea

because he’s been married for six years

he knows all of the tricks of the trade

and no one has the balls to doubt him

with his stack of dave matthews cds

that he hold like precious jewels he’s excavated

from the one-dollar bin

with his quest for adam sandler films

and the oeuvre of kevn james

for the way he tells, chris,

that jurassic world was the fucking bomb

and he’s a douche if he doesn’t go out and see it

before inviting chris to his fourth of july barbecue

out at that big-ass house in jersey

with the pool and the kids running around and all of that shit

for the way this american bro

has kept the country running amidst all the war and social turmoil

how comfortably familiar he is walking around this store

like he’s planning on buying everything

then heading over to friday’s

for the mid-day beer special and boneless hot wings

because, fuck this week, bro, he tells chris

before finding a john mayer double live cd

no, fucking triple live album

holding it up into the fluorescent lights of the store

like he’s found the holy grail.