Tuesday, July 29, 2014

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.

                                   

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