phishin

by Ting a Ling

Posted to Action Poetry on 2004-02-20 17:20:00

oh, you know how it is.
go west young man, every
blood moon. figure you
should see them once,
so you pack your bag
around town all afternoon.
sweating, on foot, finally
you score enough SMACK
to keep this bitch kick-
ing for 2 days and 2 nights.
don’t forget the morning after.
so before that you say “by
mom, i’m hitching a ride
to the air base.” so it goes,
and you catch a lift
with these 3 yuppies,
and they seem o.k., but
somethings a little off…
this is supposed to be
freedom, and youth, and free-
form. but these suckers talk
about how somolians are
bringing down property
values in portland. and
you’re not one to judge,
but they traded in their mini-
bus for a 99 caravan, and
have jobs in the music industry.
sometimes the beat of life,
it can catch you by suprise.
but you know, life, it happens
and you wake up 2 years later.
clean, and you shave, and bit
by bit self doubt fades, and
finally you strike up a
rapport with youself, you know,
about the little things, like
having a pulse on the moment.




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