Anomoly

 

I dressed like the rest of ’em,
dragged the ragged hem of my Indian Kaftan
as I shimmied in the ‘seventies summertime dust,
bare soles greying,
slurping up the dirt as they slapped on the pavement,
lank hair swaying down around my waist.

I picked up the lingo;
learned to tag a suffix onto hellos and info.
“Hi, man”, “Hey, man”,
“I’m spaced out today, man”.
I gabbed about breadheads, straights and deadheads,
denied having hang-ups,
while the guys got spaced out,
dabbled with the wahwah, and crashed in the pad.

I dressed like the rest of ’em,
babbled like the best of ’em,
but I burned with a different kind of fire.
An anomalous question mark, an obvious outlier,
I shook my head at weed, and I detested LSD.
There
had
never
been
a
hippie
quite
like
me.

~o~

The Daily Post #Outlier

©Jane Paterson Basil