Rollover Dead Call
a common place with an old coot
peddling socrates to a group of
half-soused, goggle-eyed vagrants
who want to wear temporary robes,
when the cameras blink on and off.
i have never seen scam artisans
legitimized with state budgets
until i saw this dry man
flick skin flakes on pupils
& whisper about ease.
mediocrity sells in a loop.
& when i sat there.
i cried for myself.
i cried for all of them.
i cried for the old coot.
i cried for the bathroom stalls displaying giant penis portraits.
i cried for the middle aged mother sitting behind me who knew.
i said: "present."
i smiled for the woman sitting next to me who graduated.
she waited so long to receive the receipt she bought.
-------
KJ Hays lives in Orange County somewhere. He writes poems and reads things. Maybe one day he'll get around to having a soggy bowl of cereal. He keeps an invite only blog at: http://illegalfunk.blogspot.com/. Feel free to contact him, if you would like an invite.
