Karl Koweski

looking for Sid


I'm wandering around the camp grounds

of Woodstock, not the original, of course

just one of its hackneyed sequels

and I come across this goofy bastard

waving a placard reading

HAVE YOU SEEN SID?

real subtle, the kid must have

a fucking ink blot for a brain


"hey kid," I approach him

"you needing some acid?"


"yeah, man, you got some?"

kid's eyes bulging out of his head

he already has his wallet out


"relax on that," I mutter

"I'm just a scout

see that guy sitting over there"

I motion to some fat guy sitting

outside a beige two man tent

"he's got what you're looking for

white blotter acid, good shit

he's cautious, though, and won't

sell nothing unless you hit him

with the code word I'm giving out"


"what's the code word?"


"chubby tits"


the kid can't thank me enough

he beelines for the fat bastard

and whispers the code word


when the guy grabs the kid by the throat

I duck behind a line of tents

and retreat toward the main stage

Melissa Etheridge will be on soon

and I'm anticipating lots of naked lesbians



nuts


the new kid says a lotta

people think he's psycho

and he believes them

he knows he's not right


I tell him I think people

often mistake a lack of

intelligence for insanity

and sometimes people who

refer to themselves as

crazy are ineffectual

little men craving attention


you ain't lived my life

he says, you don't know

what I'm capable of


well what makes you crazy?

you eat your own shit?


no


you eat other people's shit?


hell no


you jerk off with a pair of

underwear wrapped around

your head as you sing along

with a Britney Spears' song?


the new kid shakes his head


then you're not fucking crazy

or, at the very least, not as

crazy as I am



stop


now I knew

the stop sign wasn't optional


but considering

it was a four way stop

and there were no

other vehicles in

my line of sight


I slowed down enough

to acknowledge the stop sign

and continued on my way

until I noticed the

flashing lights

in my rear view mirror


the cop, after taking

my license, did not seem

impressed that I had

at least been considerate

enough to slow down


I don't see what the

difference between slowing

down and stopping is

I muttered ruefully


I understand

the cop said, but,

tell you what,

in about a second I'm

gonna take this night stick

out and start beating

the living shit out of you


then you tell me

you want me to stop

or slow down



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