Woodstock or Saudi Arabia

Al-Khobar: 115 degrees 3:00 PM streets

and from out of somewhere,

Saudi Abdullah's right there ridin my bumper,

40, 60 mph

horn blastin

zig-zaggin

in and out of traffic

fightin to stay on my tail,

a middle east French Connection scene

but this time the other guy’s Gene Hackman

and I’m the hunted,

this time it’s huge American cars, Toyota pickups, and electric rickshaws everywhere

with Abdullah glaring at my rental license plate

bangin his sweaty red fists on his steering wheel

eventually a traffic light interrupts the chase

he pulls over and is

runnin my way,

ready to rip off my seatbelt and yank me out of my car,

his immaculate white thobe flapping

red checkered Ghutrah unraveling

gnashed green prayer beads spilling:

“Yella! Yella!” he's screamin

pumpin his fists

cursin in Arabic

threatenin me and the oncomin traffic

and then to my horror

he’s there at the driver's window

with a crowbar

red face livid

beard drippin with saliva

screamin the language of the aggressor:

“Amerika Man Fuck Go!”

firing more Arabic curses to my face

my sweaty western clothes

there it was:

Feudalism confrontin Capitalism

Theocracy avenging the Infidels,

a Dissenter and Biblical Hebrew Enemy vs the Wahabis,

bellowin: “death to the kaffirs!”

***********************************

I could not look into this man’s face

acknowledge his rage

my shame dominating my fear…

I knew he could have beaten me

ripped me apart

set me on fire

after all it was his Kingdom

and I the first world thief:

instead, he spit in my face

through the busted window,

then lumbered off

still swinging his crowbar,

unsatisfied or satisfied,

abandoning the kaffir,

deserted, frightened,

forlorn and friendless in my hipster world

now unraveled beyond comprehension,

confined to a place way too simplistic,

far too visceral

for my multifarious inclusive utopian Western mind

to revive and fabricate any tolerance,

to try to resurrecting Woodstock

and further world peace

 Delray Beach, 2017