black friday

i had the nicest time

dancing with a girl

through panic on the streets of london

and panic on the streets of birmingham

and panic at our nation's finest

retailers of electronics and expensive

things on sale.

hands hooked together, smiling,

we stepped and bobbed and

sang along,

apathetic to the media material madness

of the day.

on the stage, the man with the fade

and the coke-bottle glasses in front

of a table full of wires and cords

wagged his finger at the crowd,

singing along to his own death threat

hang the dj

hang the dj

hang the dj

and we danced through black friday

into no-one-cares-about-this saturday

and eventually left the sweaty

echo park bar and went home,

i would say, absolutely and utterly

content.

recollecting

december

i was much younger then, around

the time of my nineteenth birthday,

standing outside in december,

rain-wrapped limbs holding a cell phone

up to my drenched ear shrouded

by shaggy wet hair, a beard, and

scuba goggles on top of the

whole mess, (i just like the rain is

all.) talking about tea and the

times we agreed to talk - daily -

over the coming month and some

hours added to that. and i was

much younger then. she was hazel

and frail and we were both just a

little insane. leave it like it's

burning you and she did, come the

new year. january. a hollow

month. the next several were forced,

pained to wade through the days -

we did though, muddle our

way around until the

end. and no more rain came.

i was home then, working

out of doors with gloves on.

december, forever.

eh

not a latte

sometimes it bothers me

when i look around

and plastic people are

paying more for

their coffee drinks

than i can afford to

shell out for

one meal in

a given day.

best just to be

thankful though,

that i can at least

pay for a meal.

nothing sacred

shiny tiles

i was at

an art school

walking down the

windowy halls on

shiny tiles

and there were

flyers posted all over

the walls and

some even on

the windows

and one of these

flyers, amid computers

for sale and

missing cell phones

and offers to score

your independent film,

read

(let me turn this

over one second)

"meditation

(once more)

mondays, 5:15 pm,

5 dollars"

now,

millions of people

have been practicing

the spiritual-or-pagan

discipline of

meditation

for thousands and

thousands of

weather bruised

years

absolutely and utterly

free

of charge

and i just don't

see what gives whoever

posted this pretentious

and profane

invitation to what

i'm sure would and will

amount to spiritual

abandonment and

enlightenment (for some)

of course

the divine-or-godless right

to charge the

ungodly sum of

five dollars

merely to take part in

this ancient

rite.

it confused me

for as much time

as it took

to tear it off

the wall and

write this poem

on the back of it.