I prefer to watch the parade
at WalMart rather than Starbucks.
People are fatter, darker, louder,
more Creole and Spanish
less Wall Street English.
I like the sloppy track
of a mariachi band over
some canned smooth jazz.
And I like to think
that tonight's Wesak moon shadow
will pour like slow medicine
over the 4 AM werewolf crack heads
as they jockey to find
ready-made guacamole.
Who can guess where the next Buddha will be born?
15 lines
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