(bad poem of the day)
Christy & I share this intersection
Haight & The Bowery
Jim's flogging books of hipster insights
I'm selling flower power hippiedom
well no, it's Yonge & Bloor
& Stuart Ross is pushing absurdist short stories
Crad Kilodney's our key competition
but wait - that's bill bissett chanting
crazy sutras across the street
play kicking at a seagull & then offering
it stale bread from The Mission
Christy & I are half drunk -
hipsters & hippies come down to this
red wine goes plonk! and our street
sales money snatched from Acorn's
thorny grasp - Marxist diatribes & all
so we share the bottle with Milt's ghost
pour some on the sidewalk for Rimbaud
Baudelaire ... dead Red
at these crossroads we sell our souls
to the devil's delight
poems for sale in the street
down to this ... down to this
white light/white heat
the street corner preacher calls himself
Billy Blake ... it's all come down to this
crazy intersection - call it life, call
it poetry, call it madness
jones lights up a ghostly joint - tokes & passes
out ... damn it's getting crowded at
this small intersection - Shaunt is
drawing chalk diagrams - colouring
the sidewalk with mandala brilliance
damn this old blue barrel acid -
who said it wouldn't work!
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