Early Bird Specials
by Odin Roark

Bargains lure,
be it the Midwest,
New York,
or Los Angeles.

All kinds of sad people
banished to survival surroundings
live day to day with little reason for existing,
save the variety of “first in line”
attention awarded for their despair.

Hunger for self-respect knows not age,
for whether a run-away,
or an Alzheimer victim,
the sense of wandering aimlessly
is often rewarded with as little as
a “before 9 AM” ninety-nine cent breakfast neon,
or the one dollar beer “before 5 PM” chalkboard invite.

Or, maybe it's the “hands on” opening morning for Apple’s new gizmo,
or the midnight premier of Star Wars,
or how about the soon to be history “Day After Christmas Sales”?

No, Early Bird Specials are no longer merely stomach comfort
like the Blue Plate Specials of the 30’s.

Today, it’s the sale of this,
the sampling of that,
the pandering to the struggle
to satisfy one’s worth,
that elusive quality
often reduced to a compulsion to game the system,
beat the odds,
hunt down any opportunity,
gobble up marketing’s table scrap trickery,
that slight of hand paradox blurring the line
between the fuckers and the fuckies.

Perhaps…

We all have our own kind of “feel good” desperation,
that finding of another ever-changing sandwich board come on,
where waning self-esteem can be re-energized,
maybe even carefully preserved,
trusting the next chance to feel special
might cause an awakening,
help avoid another anesthetizing experience.

We can only hope
the hope-famished or the gluttonous-addicted
avoid seeking out the quintessential bargain
that may unexpectedly end it all.