the five of us drank the sunny d
after leary-ing up
and took a stroll through the quiet neighborhood
once the vivid green of the well-kept yard
began to bleed into the grey sidewalk
i knew that the game’s afoot
 
i also knew that we needed to get inside
wide-eyed longhairs traipsing through this nice catholic enclave? asking for trouble
so–snacks in hand–we nested
manga and music videos and a decent stereo
the walls dripped crimson,
in time with the destructive acts of the eight devils of kimon
we laughed at this cartoon intensity
but we had to take breaks from its madness
 
after the movie, near dark,
after we gawked at the cathedral’s stained glass gruesomeness,
we wandered somewhat aimlessly
in a grocery parking lot
neil saw a window pot
filled with flowers.
are they real? he asked.
i felt them; i said, yes.
wait–are they? allen jumped in
they aren’t real, neil finished
i felt them; i said, no…?!
 
when i wanted them to be real,
they were real.
when i wanted them to be fake,
they were fake.
perception is a trickster