Strawberry Alarm Clocks
He is a time-warped Rip Van Winkle
with fading Sixties memories
when hazy pleasure days
of free love’s good vibrations
were angel dusted with bad trips
of long-legged spiders oozing
from sockets in the wall.
Now he sells novelties
at sporadic street fairs
near Haight-Ashbury and Stanyan.
Censers on his cart smolder aromas
of sandalwood and copal.
Stacked with peace sign t-shirts
are strawberry alarm clocks…
scented red candles tied in bundles
to resemble dynamite…
of contradictions in his life.