Tight Skin

September noon was hot I sat alone in a crowd My counterfeit leather boots were cheap vinyl, Like traces of gas in a puddle, They shone an iridescent rainbow I wanted faded “501’S” but wore “Monkey Wards” counterfeit denim My skin no longer fits; I was alone in a crowd The bleachers flanking the Hollywood High Sheiks were unfriendly that hot September lunchtime Not only did my skin not fit it crawled with self-disgust Eric wore long hair and a tie-dye tee shirt His answer was correct…he knew…I followed him to the palace The walls were decorated in 70’s black light contemporary Quadraphonic stereo held the 8 Track Tape, As the Juke holds licorice pizza Dark Side of the Moon was the wedding song Mary Jane became my wife, John Barleycorn my best man I settled into the warmth of the altar, my skin fits better