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How it Began

by Erik Jensen

Five of us enter a Taco Bell, surrounded
by its hipster kaleidoscope walls and
an overwrought hunger for refrieds.

Nothing’s attention grabbing,
except a man puffed like a freshly toasted biscuit,
sniffing out some hot sauce in a distant corner.
but he’s nothing special, no more than the four faces around me,
all vaguely unfamiliar.

He likes Dos Equis, knows I do too.
perhaps this is why we’re both eating burritos,
feeling our bodies cringe and writhe while we discuss how
we should eat healthier.
That’s all we got, our mutually assured destruction
and the sense of brotherhood around it.

The old conversation points circulate quicker than usual today,
an out of control carousel which we all desperately try to brake.
I watch the lone black horse tire and sputter, choppily crashing.
When he stops, the quiet acts of desperation begin.

While there’s a hope that some jerry rigged thoughts and words
might patch up our junkety lemon of a carousel,
there’s not enough elbow grease around, but he still takes a stab.
A push is good enough and will delay long enough
for us to rotate one more time and decidedly
leave our seats, each to his own vice.

That’s how it began, as I returned to the soda fountain,
watching biscuit man and the swirled mixture of chemicals
and water descend into my plastic cup. It sizzled, I mentally stuttered.
That’s enough; I’m tired of living in small worlds rotating on small words.

03/02/2009

Posted on 03/02/2009
Copyright © 2024 Erik Jensen

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 03/02/09 at 04:50 PM

Welcome back to the site. Look forward to reading more of your work. smh

Posted by Kelly Jensen on 03/02/09 at 08:49 PM

I like the rhythm and the tone. I'm still having a bit of a punctuation hangup, but that is so much easier to think about than capturing the scene. You've got that down.

Posted by Brian Fuchs on 03/02/09 at 10:33 PM

This is great. I love the flow.

Posted by Charlie Morgan on 09/17/09 at 07:21 PM

...too cool!

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