I sit in a bar looking at a calendar
With Buddha’s eyes painted on it.
The climbing season on Mt. Everest has ended.
In two weeks, eleven ascents
Were made, with three separate climbing teams
Reaching the summit in one day: a new record.
Five hundred empty oxygen tanks
And a thousand pounds of garbage
Was also taken off the mountain;
Another new record, but no body count was made.
The woman sitting next to me is smoking a joint
And asks, “Can sperm get stoned?”
I ask her to come home with me
But she says no and moves to another stool.
The Memorial Day Weekend has started.
by Erik La Prade
Erik La Prade has a B.A and an M.A. from City College. His first book, Things Maps Don't Show, was published in 1995, and his second, Figure Studies, was published in 1999. Some of his poems have appeared in Fish Drum, Night Magazine, The Hat, The Reading Room, The New York Times, and Artist and Influence. He also has articles and interviews in The Brooklyn Rail, Captured: A History of Film and Video On The Lower East Side, and The Outlaw Bible of American Essays.
His chapbook SWATCHES was published by POETS WEAR PRADA in 2008. To find out more about it visit:http://poetswearpradanj.home.att.net/ErikLaPrade.html
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