The Expo

A poem by Jono S.

Prompt: “It’s Summer in Vancouver”

the broads on Broadway with their books about africa,
hip bitches trading coins for culture and glances for sex.
whereas the other half is serving sangrias by halftime,
air conditioned dreams giving way to summertime sadness.

Commercialized specialties make you feel superior,
where style has parted ways, the money soon follows.
Main-ly you feel as if you can get by as a fraud,
because if the Willow don’t whisper, neither will Yew.

the sun also rises in the east, but Powell leads to powerless,
you know salvation comes a dollar and a drink at a time.
stiff fists and sweaty bike shorts make a clusterfuck of good intentions,
and you have to take a stairway to heaven to get what you want.

there’s a man who will provide cutlery for cash,
where talk is cheap and so is the wine.
even if you’re laughing, crying, or throwing up your soul,
there’s only one thing for certain: you’ve gotta wait in line.

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To get in touch with the author, please tweet him at @JonoSue.