Full Moon in June

It’s like,

you must’ve heard somewhere—

There’s a full Moon in June

& it’s,

on top of that,

a full Moon Cruz,

& even,

another notch more—

it’s Friday the 13th,

& it’s all

kind’a makin’ the Pacific Avenue scene

happenin’

this evening—

Like, it’s boppin’ along time,

cruz’n the Cruz time,

it’s hangin’ out

& checkin’ everyone out time,

it’s the dude’s are dude’n it time,

it’s the Kuzanga 7-piece marimba beat time—

Yep, they’re all set up

‘cross from

big Cinema 9,

a crowd they got all congregatin’.

It’s the dance time

of gettin’ in the groove,

the rain of mallets

strikin’ & strikin’ those bars,

it’s the beat makin’ of rhythm time—

It’s like,

“a vision of a cheeseburger” time

the man’s sign said,

a little box set out

for handout money,

or it’s

Any spare change?

another walked along & asked,

said he would give me some tequila,

but I didn’t want that—

or like,

it’s visions of girls, girls

everywhere

up & down Pacific Ave,

it’s like,

here we all are,

all playin’ at bein’ human,

whatever our role might be—

Whatever,

it’s like,

to-go coffee & cappuccino,

mochas perhaps,

Santa Cruz Coffee Roasting time—

It’s the wake up of desire time,

the honey-colored full Moon

rising time,

it’s like,

eatin’ honey spread all over

honey-Moon of June—

She knew such lore

& shared it freely,

between her sets,

we spoke briefly—

It’s like,

an electrical current runnin’ thru

all sentient beings of Earth this night

of a honey-Moon full Moon,

the mad Moon

like a crazy tune—

It’s like,

all the guitars they’re strummin’,

the thumpin’ & beatin’ on whatever kind’a

makeshift drums,

it’s the portable organ,

she’s sittin’ on the bench,

it’s in her lap,

it’s the tune she’s playin’,

gatherin’ all the

sidewalk nomads,

blankets & backpacks

& all kinds’a stuff laid out,

street life a’livin’,

& still,

people keep’a cruz’n—

It’s like,

all the eatin’ & drinkin’ establishments

everyone’s flockin’ to,

all the

jivin’ goin’ on,

all the

deals

apparently goin’ down,

which is funny

why

with my notepad & pen

couple dudes thought

I might have been

a cop undercover

—with my hair long so,

my androgynous no denyin’ look,

come on, dude—

but there’s one knew better

& said

I was a poet—

It’s like,

the waft of pizza

over the tables outside

Pizza My Heart,

it’s the cookies of Pacific Cookie

makin’ their way on the street,

it’s the ice cream of Marini

they’re lickin’,

sittin’ over there,

it’s the all new Del Mar neon marquee

pulsin’ manic

like a heart on speed—

It’s the imbibe of Moonshine,

the makin’ loony

tune time—

And out of thee blue

this guy called out,

Write us a song

& so I said,

I’d do what I can

& weave that in,

but it wasn’t until

I caught that glimpse

of the honeyed Moon—

It’s like,

suddenly that moment

She offered me

Her drink

& of it

I drank,

& sure hit me fast—

Somewhere you’ve heard

there’s a full Moon in June,

it’s a crazy sort’a tune,

& I almost missed it.

June 13, 2003