This is a continuation of my last poem A Vendor's Bird's Eye View. In the year 1999 I was in a rut and I couldn't get out of it. I was travelling around in my RV selling things at street fairs and swapmeets in Southern California. I was frustrated. I wasn't playing music. And I couldn't get ahead. I decided I would write poems about street fairs. It was writing these poems that directly led to writing The Reincarnation of Edgar Cayce?

 

Block Party ©2000 Wynn Free

It’s a party.

It’s a party.

It’s a block party.

It’s a beach party.

It’s a let your hair down

Get drunk, have fun,

Get laid, slam dunk

Block party.

Thousands, thousands

One hundred thousand people,

With no cares, who cares,

The care of a special person.

Bumping shoulders, buying batik,

Eating Greed

Souvlaki, teriyaki.

Greasy Greasers, Hari Krishners.

No one goes home alone.

It’s that kind of party.

Once a year

Underage coquettes

Converging on the steps

From the suburbs,

From the mountains,

They all come to feel the vibes

Of the block party.

And when evening comes,

It’s still not hum drum.

Everyone knows

The electricity is in the air.

Getting lucky is routine there,

At the block party

The block party

THE PACIFIC BEACH BLOCK PARTY.