GET EXCITED

The hot red ember on the tip of the stick of jasmine
Scented incense makes its way to the bottom,
Like a car that has broken down and is being pushed
Slowly down a road with a slight incline. The air
Is thick and smoky, a scent from another time.
The Moldy Peaches drifts about, giving a needed
Break from the traffic sounds of Stone and Pennington.
The dim light shining down from an enclave
Of sheer red paisley fabric reflects off of a golden
Buddha on my shelf. The dark furniture is the foundation
Of this wannabe eclectic sanctuary. Alex Delarge glares
Down menacingly at me from the wall while Bob Marley
Rolls a joint. Ringo, John, Paul and George also hold places
Of honor. PETA flyers make guests rethink their choices. A
Yellow metal “no turn around” sign takes up space between
The closet doors. It’s much more appropriate here
Than on the corner of the street my old house was on.
Such ambitions: to completely cover the walls and ceiling
In posters, to replace the plain white blinds with dyed fabric.
Dog hair clings to the grey office chair like mountain
Climbers trying not to fall to their death.