by Gabriel Ricard

Your out of body experience may vary,
and a lot of it is going to depend
on where you want the kids
who won’t go home
to bring your bones, when you’ve drank everything
at some bozo’s inappropriate,
fairly pathetic Cinco de Mayo,
and you’ve committed yourself
to eating flowers by the thousands,
voting in the lunatic
who probably won’t get a lot done,
and sleeping through Sunday afternoon.

Your out of body experience may vary,
absolutely,
but it still stands to reason
that you’re not going to want to get
stuck in the rain that is getting closer
every day to turning Chatham Street
into a gloomy city under the sea.

You don’t want to deal with that.
Not with the humidity being
what it is from June to October.

Gabriel Ricard 

Gabriel Ricard writes, edits, and occasionally acts. He is a columnist with both Drunk Monkeys and Cultured Vultures. His books are available from Moran Press, Alien Buddha Press, and Kleft Jaw Press. He lives with his wife and assortment of deranged ferrets on Long Island.

_{Artist: Katie Dutch ft. Frida Kahlo}