New Hope

walking around this place,

I feel the words stirring within,

as the late afternoon dusk begins to ascend;

a sign in front of a coffee/snack bar announces,

‘Exotic Drinks Inside’ and I quietly wonder if this means

they will strip for dollar bills,

I see tomato pies on bridge street and fight the temptation

to go inside and ask for a polite junkie,

inside new gypsies, there is a warning sign informing patrons

they do not cater to practitioners of  black magick;

only good witches live here;

my wife points out an American flag,

with an image of Morrison in the middle,

I start go in to ask about the price,

but then decide not too,

somehow I don’t think he’d approve of the

commercialism of it all,

but then who knows,

if he were alive today,

perhaps he’d be doing ads for american express,

and singing light my fire in Las Vegas for a

cavalcade of golden oldies extravaganza;

old age and money

have a way of doing those things;

then the thought occurs,

don’t you think he knew that?

isn’t that why in the end,

he chose death over selling out;

later, inside a little strip mall,

bodily functions call out,

only to find out it will cost me a quarter, so

I pay the lady guarding the door,

then proceed to take a thirty minute dump,

I smile at the guard lady on the way out

as she angrily glares back;

it was the best damn quarter

I ever spent.

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