Dumb Hummer

if you've ever sipped guinness

through a cigarette filter

or unwittingly taylored your style

after the war footing

of your nation's leaders

or wore fatigues in a civilian's way

or fit a hummer

through the narrower streets

downtown, seeking parking

on a friday night,

getting lodged in the metal wake,

then that's you.

but if you can dance like i do

with no grid or arthur

something numbered footprints,

if you can walk right out

the bike gate of the mccarther bart

like parting leaves to make a path

and don't look back

or feel bad

or speed up when they call after you,

then we

share a foam fist

in the nose bleeds

at the freaking circus.

if you've ever sipped guinness

through a cigarette filter

or wore fatigues

in a civilian's way

if you've got a chain around

your license plate

or cosmetic gold teeth,

i don't know you.

if you wear first hand clothes

and get your hair cut

by somebody you don't know,

i'm below you.