Poem For Mike Young

I wrote this poem after reading part of Mike Young's new chapbook Peter Pan Mocha French Toast while I waited for the bus. You can buy it on his blog. You can pay him between $1-5 for it. It was sunny and nothing felt connected.

Kobe Beef Fried In Dr.Pepper Sauce

Am I trying too hard? Is this
thing really on? There's a copy
of hamburger water and a coffin
between us. Some guy "god willing"
said Friday is now the new Lobster Day.
And I had no idea what it anything
meant anymore. A cold hard danger robes
us and sings into a Dark Place,
Frank Sinatra's Grave, that will be
$5.50. Thank you for being my
friend. While I waited for the bus.
The toothpaste broke. That fucking toothpaste
is broken. The bus is a long way
off now, turbo thumping and acting
all splintery. I wish I could give you
a dollar. If I sleep now will
someone murder me with
a jumprope?