On My Day Off*

by Ray Freed

I am down at the mall this morning
having my nipples pierced and my hair
done up in corn rows and feel a tinge
of hunger, so being as I am in a
health conscious mode of late I ask
the bar jockey at the Health Food Kiosk
to mix me up a smoothie.

He asks what would I like in it, and
I think a minute, my mind drifting over
images of sparkling fresh fruits in the
California sun, and tell him, 'Let me have a jumbo
with bananas, strawberry, red grapes, a kiwi,
a touch of fresh lemon, and a quarter pound of Spam.'

Well his eyes get as big as Truman Capote's
asshole and he yells to his fellow workers,
'Did you hear that, this fat fuck wants Spam
in his smoothie!' I figure this is beyond the boundaries
of Mall etiquette, so I reach over and confirm his cojones
with my right hand and squeeze until his face
is blue as blueberries and say, 'Listen you skinny grass eater,
until I taste that smoothie I just ordered I don't let go.'

Now my nipples hurt a little,
but the hair looks dynamite.

*Third-prize winner, asinine poetry literary contest, spring 2003

0 Like
Log in to rate
0 Dislike