Slam

This is a slam-but not quite.

It’s over the ear headphones

And New Wave British beats

As Difford and Tilbrook try to convince

My tired feet that “it’s cool to be a cat”

Or describe “that night” they “ain’t forgotten”  “out on that windy common”,

I’ve got a double dirty chai and

A pumpkin chocolate chip muffin

From a place where

they know me by my face

and a coat that makes me smile

and I’m watching my Docs

hit the pavement as my

mismatched socks keep me lucky

like a bowl of cereal

and I’m jumping

over the cracks

like some sort of Mexican bean

and my keys are cold in my pocket

but it’s okay,

And the sky is purple and it’s dark

(but not quite)

and something smells like whoa

because I’ve got a pocketful of

Washington, Lincoln, and Hamilton

And that might buy me a meal or two

And I can feel the chill on my skin

And it has to be 40 degrees out here

And Boise is still asleep but

I Love It

And it’s a Monday and

Everybody’s Working for the Weekend

And I’m too caught up in the 80’s and

My caffeine to bring myself to care

Because Mondays are only as bad

As you decide to make them and

What’s more fun that being

the annoyingly chipper one when

everyone else sighs and moans

and they cry and they groan

about missed alarms and no jam

for their toast

(I’d rather eat my toast dry

and pace myself instead of

racing to the finish

be it bus or school or crosswalk),

because the most interesting things

can happen in the dreamy softness

of purple light,

Purple Rain, Purple Haze,

So on the days when my legs

Say “I could” but my head says

“I should” and they go

back and forth like two

tired kids who can’t remember

what it is they’re fighting about anyway,

I wake up, get up,

Step up, and then I shape up

And do what I should

Because

If I’ve got my

All 80’s all the Time playlist,

I can do anything I want

-within reason-

Because if I fight the law,

The law will win

And in America’s precious penal system

I can’t get my chais with twice the espresso

Or my music with twice the 80’s,

And while life is what you make of it

I’d like more material to play with

Than orange jumpsuits

And cold metal cuffs.

Because –and I’m being honest-