a bit of foolishness for the Writer's Cramp and tonight's Wesak Moon
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
Who can guess where the next Buddha will be born?