pick up acoustic
and play melancholy–
chords
that
ache
my heart
fall out of me.

dark notes
come off my hands,
try for light,
closed eyes
feel
the
changes…

put down guitar and start writing this
with
Morning View
in headphones,

i know i got the blues
when i’m listening to
the
incubus
morning view
album
while writing about this.

i should never say or do anything ever again.

I.

Feel myself
reverting
into
introversion,
or am i just stoned right now?

Alone for
10 days
wandering,
thinking of a million things,
my last night on the road before coming home,
new environments
incredible stimuli
for thought,
that is
if i
care
to think,
and not just float around
distracted by pretty colors
and food.

I try to dig on different states
as if they were their own countries,
and try the local cuisine
and talk to the local people,
try to see who they really are
listen to random bits
of conversations
and look at what they wear
and what kind of jokes they make
what kind of movies they like to quote.

Working class cowboys with cowboy hats,
city slicker wannabe marlboro men,
preppy college kids,
a punk rock scene,
a scenester scene,
and a stoner scene i heard the radio refer to as “freakies”
post-modern hippies with dreads
and tribal piercings and hemp clothes,
sidewalk guitarists with hats open on the ground full of money;
and there was a bohemian take over of the
East side of Downtown Denver,
where all the beatnik hipster types get together
and eat gourmet versions of everything
and drink the best micro-brewed beers out of Fort Collins
Colorado,
and quote lines from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure
and Dumb and Dumber.

II.

It rained my last night in Denver,
so i put my rain jacket on
and walked down the street
and went to the little official liquor store
filled with wine
and fridges full of mostly locally brewed craft beers
that are over 3-5.
“Hey man, do you guys have any dry days in Colorado?” I ask.
“No, not in Colorado.”
“Cool, I’ve been to places and they’ll be dry on Sundays.”
“No. We used to, then we got rid of that law. What we have here is
the three-five law.”
“What’s the three-five law?”
“7-11 and grocery stores are only allowed to sell pisswater
at three point five percent alcohol. Only stores like mine are allowed to sell anything stronger.”
“No shit?”
“They’re trying to pass a bill to allow all stores to sell all liquor.”
“That’s cool.”
“Not for me.”
“Oh Yeah no kidding huh? You go into business for yourself based on that law,
and then they pass that bill and you go out of business. That’s bullshit.”
“You got it. I don’t think it’s going to pass though.”
“Well i hope not for your sake bro. Take it easy man.”
“You too.”
And i leave
with my six-pack of Samurai Rice Ale.

I thought i’d seen a pizza spot nearby when i was wandering around on my bike
and so i took a shot
and walked up one more block
and there it was
still open,
four hipster employees
one mopping,
one making pizzas,
and one running
the register.
The fourth one i guess was just getting off his shift
or on a break
cause he made himself a pizza.
Anyway,
when i walk in, the guy mopping,
who has a big handlebar mustache
says,
“Hey, what’s up man!” And put his hand up for a high five like he knows me,
so i give him a good one and say,
“What’s up dude? How’s it going?”
“What are you doing bringing beer here? We sell beer.” He said, dejected.
I laughed, “My bad bro.”
“It’s ok this time. Thanks for coming in the rain.”
“No worries dude.”

No one was in there
but i was good luck.
After i ordered a veggie pizza
three more people came in.
“Do you know what you want?” He asked a customer.
“Not yet.”
“Ok you have three seconds to order or you don’t get anything.”
The guy looked a little surprised.
“Alright you don’t get anything.”
I laugh.
The customer’s still confused.
“I’m just kidding. Here’s a menu, take your time.”

Life doesn’t seem too bad in Denver.
Everyone rides bikes
and everyone has beards,
so i fit in when i showed up unshaven
riding around on my bike
with hipster glasses.

Then i shaved and
it was all over,
before i could be mistaken
as a serious artist with a beard
taking art photos with my digital camera,
now i was just a fuckin tourist
taking pictures with my cell phone.

III.

Denver Colorado:
a nice place
full of just as much fucked up shit
as any other city;
watched the local news…
don’t want to repeat what happened,
far too graphic for any poetic prose piece,
same
random-violence
that occurs in cities all around the world:
robberies, rapes, and murders.

You can’t escape it,
people are beautiful
and they are desperate grotesque monsters.