Friday, May 13, 2011


so I'm in a big big room
where music will be played
and there's an obnoxious someone
who thinks he's a defiant hero
clutching a fat cigar in his right hand

then he tilts his head back
and blows gray smoke
looking like car exhaust
into the upper Palladium atmosphere

I wonder if it's worth it 
to find one of the yellow-shirt security people
until I remember
that a security person
confiscated my friend's Tic-Tac container
because Mr. Security
thought the Tic-Tacs might be
smuggled-in drugs
that happen to be shaped like Tic-Tacs

and it's not worth it either
to confront Mr. Cigar
and knock his treasured smoke
from his right hand
since I know from experience
that hitting and being hit
isn't the right way
to solve problems

so I move away from the compromised air,
making sure that I stand behind
the tape separating audience
from Palladium walkways
as I hear loud chatter
and smell the more familiar concert aroma
of a freshly-lit joint

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