Written by Jonathan Aryeh Wayne, July 13, 2016

I awake in my baking tent
Insects are trapped behind the rainfly
Nearby voices are audible
Awash in coffee that is potable

I emerge, submerged in sunshine
Teetering on the brink of vertigo, I urinate
The early risers congregate
To subjugate the silence

Groggy, my steps are briskly slow
Foggy, my voice is loudly low
I search for a reason to interrupt
Before I’m set to self destruct

On the kitchen counter unencumbered
Sits a bag with fruits that are numbered
With colorful oval stickers
For cultural city slickers

Beyond the rolling hillside of memories
Sits a forest caked in remedies
A pond for fish and frog is included
Human lapdogs are notably excluded

Happy little mushrooms sprout from a log
Like a painter’s brush dipped in eggnog
Alone with myself, I face the muse
Of next week’s news I didn’t refuse

Sweating profusely in a fuselage
Is not the same as in a sweat lodge
But even that I would hate to do
Than glue together a vegan shoe

I’d rather sit in a sweat lodge
Than attend a social hodgepodge
For Cancer signs’ birthday festivals
Who lacerate my dreams and testicles

Hugs from massage therapists
No longer complete my evening
For I am destitute of desires
That rarely have much meaning

I prefer tall human beings
Knocking heads on cellar ceilings
And on all of those overhead bins
Stuffed with carry-on sins

Long limbs I’ll most likely extoll
For I am a sailor of the body’s soul
But don’t look ahead too far
Cause my old name was Johnny Guitar

Manifest destiny eats lots of disk space
And we need to keep trim the robot race
Of strong workhorses and cows
And rats under roofs designed for sows

Eating watermelon on the full moon
Does it not make you swoon
Especially if this is a ritual
That aims to become habitual

Bread and circuses on a water bed
Is this how it is instead
Do you hold communion there
Should I leave or sit and stare

Did you fry yourself on your quest
Levitating upwards, undressed
Was it something you said
Were you misled by the bloodshed

I usually act my age backstage
Stoned from your outrage
Straining to touch flowers
Empowers symbiotic showers

But all of this is trivial
If you’re not eating your cereal
Of rainbow colored shamrocks
Kept in your safety deposit box

Does it take a village
To raid and pillage
When everyone forgets to connect
To disinfect the infectious neglect

Incorrect, you must disconnect
To protect the high definition aspect
Not circumspect or deflect
Or reelect the greenhouse effect

Stand tall, Mr. Small
It doesn’t have to be balls to the wall
Chew your seeds of didactic distress
Spit forth your warm, slushy mess

If only you and others of the past
Could listen more and not hold fast
Why hang unto your mental manure
And enjoy CNN’s Christiane Amanpour

Oh, I know, you’re an alpha male
Liking Guns N’ Roses and avoiding kale
While working in your highrise jail
Awaiting for society to derail

Your LinkedIN profile is your holy grail
On a website that never goes stale
So go and ride your motorbike
On the New Divorcee turnpike

Isn’t it Kafkaesque and dreamlike
To never have to hitchhike
When you’re already at death’s door
Wasting away in a Cold War bookstore

Police state surveillance is all around
People survey themselves as clowns
Don’t frown or back down
The new world order will astound

You’ll have more shock than awe
Baseballs will be ground into cole slaw
Leather belts will be popular again
When garnished with the Japanese yen

But you cannot fool me, stranger
For I’m out in the woods avoiding danger
Your pepper spray will not work here
Cause I’ve talked to God & Shakespeare

Don’t be cynical or rabbinical
You’ll know what’s true and empirical
If you sit in a sweat lodge one night
You’ll stop and give up the fight

Take my word for it children
Don’t back down and go reptilian
Listen well, and be part of tent city
Serve yourself and always look pretty