Friday, April 25, 2014

poem of the day 04.25.14

crossing abbey road at forty years old

it’s a beautiful day
only there’s this guy at the famed crosswalk

he’s got a tweed blazer on
and he’s wearing his abbey road t-shirt
like that guy who wears the band t-shirt
to the same band’s concert

his wife looks pissed
because he keeps directing her on how to cross the street

how wide her gate should be
how far apart her arms should swing

like mccartney, like lennon
do it like them, he’s shouting across the street

there are a number of people waiting to do the same thing
rainbows of flesh and blood from all over the world
trying to get to that other, magical mystery side

the cars are patient enough
i mean no one honks at the horde like they would in america

my wife and i are waiting at abbey road
to get to the other side to look at the graffiti
scrawled on the walls of the studio

we don’t need the photo op

we crossed abbey road five years ago
and it wasn’t the enlightened experience everyone claims it to be

i’ve had much more in the way of visionary moments
just crossing the street to buy a six pack of beer

but it would be nice to pause and stop for a picture
just to ruin tweed blazer’s fashion spread

have a laugh when he makes his old lady cross the street yet again

but she’s given up anyway
she’s sitting on a bench by the bus stop having a smoke
while other people are checking their cameras
to see if they got it all right

tweed blazer keeps screaming at her to give it another go
like george harrison, he says  like ringo

she tells him to go to hell then checks her phone
so he takes a picture of the famed pavement instead

and when my wife and i cross abbey road
she sneaks a picture of me
making musical history with a dozen others

my tired eyes and drunkard’s slouch
snapped for posterity

that fab, fat forty year old belly and all


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