By Sam France
Snot, teenaged and manic hilarious I was
half-drunk stumbling giggling out of deli, Saturday one o'clock sweating in mammoth overcoat + spider hair in face humid as fuck for absolutely no reason lighting menthol cigarette (menthol/ I was retarded) with yellow lighter, yellow always the coolest besides maybe white which is bad luck and finally eye-contact with smiley black guy scooting along sidewalk like a funny god and I am magical + predict dialogue will be:
"Hey, Man, can I bum a cigarette?"
Here he comes and
"Hey, Man, can I get a smoke?'
"Sure, brotha –"
Brotha, always Brotha,and he's off,
he'll probably be back shaking his head laughing politely asking to bum a light but he can go to 7-11 grab some of those free hick matches 'cause
I'm off down Labrea marching triumphant and infinite, nice day and street symphonies bursting outta the head no need for headphones squeezed earholes this is surround-sound sunny concerto, Baby, low bus bass lines plus ambulance ambience over bum band beach boys harmonies slurred and insane
& me, goofy white kid turns corner into flea market shopping for girls
and hey, there's old Cate workin' her stand, (don't look surprised, Dumbass, why do you think you're here?) the jean shorts and infinite curly blonde hair hello don'tcha wish she didn't look so good all the time? heehee
and the hot blood flows up into skull quick, of course, some black hole and
what can he do
besides grin crazily and wave? Looking like a manic preacher
he greets her giggling and walks
almost to say that
This is all your fault,
I have seen the World and don'tcha wish you came?
Have a nice day.