It was a sad day for cigarettes and the sunset
There was this place, like a dream
A green, stucco veranda
Peeling from being right by the sea
Waves licking
There was a door going into somewhere
Windows ocean splashed
Two lights above
A pink table between four pink chairs, two on each side
A dirty ashtray sat on the table
Cigarette sins snuffed out by angel swords
The sky was pink and bruised
The water was cold gray with smears of pink reflecting from the sky
It was place of deep loneliness yet sweet isolation
Away from a mad world that worships sour cream and pedophiles
I sat in one of the chairs and had a cold smoke
I wonder how I got here
There was the party
Hordes of humans
They were serving tacos with a plethora of toppings
And I noticed how the people went ravenously for the sour cream
There were squeeze bottles of it everywhere
Like big tubes of white acrylic paint in an artist’s studio
And everyone but me was squeezing out copious amounts on everything they ate
It was making me sick, and I stood back in the corner while the party raged
Me alone, again, aching quietly in the background while others laughed and talked loudly
And it was squeeze, squeeze, squeeze… Huge, grotesque dollops disappearing into sloppy smiling mouths, then talking and spitting, some spilling onto intelligent breasts, in hair, in eyes, and all over the floor
No one stopped it, the orgy just kept raging, sour cream fanatics losing all ability to be normal, well-adjusted adults, ones who used condiments conservatively and politely, not like animals in psychedelic psycho circus cages
Then the music piped on and they all began dancing and squirting sour cream at each other
It was a raucous slobber fest and the smell of it was making me gag
But then the music suddenly stopped and the cacophony calmed
“It’s time to go to the show!” someone frantically exclaimed
And they all moved to the exit like rambling cattle on meth, me forgotten, then most of the lights went out but I saw a woman reach for a tube of sour cream left behind and she carried it with her out the door
And then I stepped outside and there I was, by the sea, the peeling green, the table, the chairs, the ashtray, the sky
And I breathed out
Glad I was not part of the twisted circus I just witnessed
Fired up a smoke for the gods
And watched a purple boat
Sail toward the escapist horizon
Your thoughts?