dimpled face,
curled hair,
throated voice,
ingrained accent.

I am passing briskly by,
packages in my hand
sweat from the heat trickling through my wavy lengthy hair
and drenching my tie-dye t-shirt

He stops me
asks me
to buy tickets
for comedy
from him.
$20 dollars.

“Do you like comedy? Do you like to laugh at performers on stage?”

I reject his offer,
and he says,
“well alright then, brother,
you go now and chill out
-and search for a cosmic wave,
you know, a wavelength?
and if that wave tells you to come back here
you come back,
otherwise not.
Peace.”

Goshdernhippies.
Damn British Commies.
Tryin to seduce our yung’uns into the grip of
Satan.