New Hope

walking around the streets

as the late afternoon dusk begins to ascend,

I feel the words stirring within;

a sign in front of a coffee shop 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 go in to ask about the price

but then decide not too once I’m there,

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,

singing light my fire in a Las Vegas

cavalcade of golden oldies extravaganza,

old age and money

have a way of doing those things,

then the thought occurs that he knew that,

isn’t that why he chose death

over selling out?

later, inside a little strip mall,

bodily functions call out,

where I 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 quarter

I ever spent.

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