Snaps

I was at the Wal-Mart,
     the universe of our world,
our central light and beacon to all things that our body's
               need and necessitate,
with my friend Taylor,
               my confidant, my roommate -
                   the one who keeps me sane.

We happened upon...no.
We stumbled upon...no.

We lighted upon a rack of clothing,
    with folds of drapery and colors varying along the spectrum of
          infinity. *Snaps
They were of a price range of respectability for a child
   ne'er penniless...
          a false accusation, but surreal in idea.

Aye. There was the beauty. A Jammer's sweet surrender.
A shirt that warped and wriggled in design
     crossing over
                  a black canvas
                             of not quite ultimate velvet...
                  but of ultimate
                             stretch.

This shirt could feed me three meals.
Five dollars paid to the Little Royal Caesar of Rome -
or five dollars paid to my inner poetic desires.
             A debate for all seasons.

The debate was weak. I knew I could not resist this whimiscal,
flapping piece of material.

So it was settled. I caved. I crashed. I may even burn for this.
Call me a Heretic...or call me human.

Or call me - the Poetry Jammer - for my costume for Halloween is in the makings.