Yo D

i was out back the other
day, trimming some bushes
with a hack saw, getting
ready for my annual summer
party, when i saw
my new neighbor hanging
sheets on the line.
it was the dalai lama.
since the economy went
bust he hasn't been getting
the love donations like
he did in the past and is
now in the townhouse next
to mine. Yo, D, i yelled
out to him. how do you
get keep those sheets
so orange and bright,
what's your secret and
he smiled and nodded. they
are not sheets, they are
my robes and i wash them
down in the creek against
the rocks. my bad, i said.
but they really look good.
you are so off the chain
with this ecology thing,
aren't you? really cool.
i should start washing my
clothes in the creek too.
by the way, i'm having
a party tonight if you'd
like to stop by.
should be some hot babes
showing up, umm,
you okay with that?
yes, he said and nodded,
his brown shaved head
gleaming in the sunlight.
i mean, i'm good no mattter
what. i'm not saying you're
light in the loafers or
anything, but there should be
some nice dudes there as
well. whatever floats
your boat. anyway.
i'm grilling out, so what
do you want. steak, burgers,
dogs, maybe something soy
or hummus. i've got a mean
soy burger recipe that i
found on epicurious dot
com. taste like the real
deal. what time, he said
as he clipped the last
clothes pin to the line
hanging his sheets.
eight o'clock i told him.
bring those little finger
cymbals, or your sitar
if you want. i've got
some bongos over here
if you want to get a little
crazy. chicks dig live music.
he nodded again and smiled.
i will try to come,
he said. hey, one more thing,
i yelled over the fence,
do you need a belt or
something, i have an extra
one, i always see you
with that rope
wrapped around you.
a belt might work a little
better. just saying.
whatever. okay D, i'll
see you later. i need to
get back in to marinate
some chicken. hey, are
you okay, with beer,
a pitcher of sangria maybe.
yes, he said, and
bowed before going into
his house. sweet, i said.
sweet.