22 Aug 20117
Did I really see you today riding that small green bus with those tall wheels shining just one broken headlight and a parking ticket clamped to the mastodon wiper blade? Circling around down the slope like some grimacing skateboard aficionada whose broken spirit was still one leg up on her competition till now. My backpack’s heavy too, but I carry my shawl like a cape of thorny dollars to the wind oh my.
Look both ways before you cross back again over our slushing river of dreams overflowing its banks like some thrifty personal shopper at a 70% off sale with a card pinched from a couple backcountry camping till Tuesday. Now may be now - but it’s still just Wednesday, isn’t it?
Getting away from it all, the world’s divided by time flowing out from the rocks and the clocks. But when the mood strikes noon and we all cave in, then it’s into that deepsea pool project with all those compadres whose socks are rolled up to their knees while I eat cake off an iPad with a bowie knife soaked in soy sauce and money.
I can’t stand the glare anymore and don’t know how any of us ever could. The matador’s down in the crosswalk tying ribbons in his own hair again. Stack it up; back it up and then peel your goddamn hard drive right off your own back - pause while you look up then slam it down on the stool next to the hottest one in the bar.
There won’t be no fight tonite unless you pick the wrong side at the right time on the wrong night which it is.
Is it breezy in here? Or just me stirring things up with my soon-to-be-swallowed spoonfulls of envelopes and wine corks? Oh, man.
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© reed o’beirne 2017