Kiss Off into the Air
I have no beard. It got shaved off this morning. I don't know why. I just started shaving away. Then it was gone, and I said, "Oh, I shaved my beard."
Most of my colleagues have not noticed. My sunglasses are louder.
"Those are the kind of glasses I'd wear to talk to agents," B says.
I smile. I take off my glasses. I tuck them in my shirt. I order lunch.
"I'll have the same."
I would much prefer a salad with olives or strawberries with vanilla yogurt. I order the cheesesteak though.
"I'm glad you cleaned up from looking like a dirty terrorist," C tells me.
"You know I love you, Pirooz."
"Yes," I say.
Not much else though. Not much of anything, really.
D says that's how it is all the time.
"I don't like it," he says. "Talk," he says.
"Okay," I say.
Now I am quiet. I think about the girl I saw last night. I think about how she wants to get it on.
"Just spank it," M says.
"Yes! Spank it!! Don't think about it. Just spank it."
"No, no!! No thinking! Just spank it!"
I don't argue. I smile. It's good to be spanked. Lots of people get spanked. Maybe, we could spank each other. Maybe, we could turn into a car. It could have an insignia. It could be a hero. It could wash itself. It could drive us home. It could have a button. It could have a button and we could push it. We could push it and hold our breath. We could push it and turbo boost. We could push it and find a planet. We could push it and CONTROL + Apple + Shift! We could push it and float like bread. Push it and Outer Space. Kick it in our place. Find it, MySpace. Turn it, push back. Feel it, heart attack. Groove, hurry on. Broken this. Held wet kiss. Peace pipe out. Why won out. Why one win. And everything, everything, everything, everything...
Last night, I wrote in my dreams.