Sylvie Hill

Cairo the Skater Stoner

Cairo’s fucked off the institutions again
Said he’d burn the motherfucker down
That one prof who flunked him
From a 50 to a zero
Fuck the establishment!

He’s on a mission, shitting his britches
Sick with a bug and bad nutrition
Gone south on a mission
To sell CDs
Buy a new deck and a vision.

The tell-tale signs of a stoner is their eyes
“I look tired,” he says, “but I don’t care.”
This kinda made me cry.
From a 10 to a zero
Who is this guy?

Stoners spin their wheels over-thinking:
Case of the persecuted and paranoia
About everything around them.
From a human to a hermit
Fuck these humans, eh?

Cairo’s on fire and a mystery in his Carhartts
Has all the girls wanting to make him hard.
His wicked smile’s perfect
I picture him jerkin’ with it
Bet you he’s hung, erect.

He’s the amalgamation of all things hotness
He’s got the Turkey and the Egypt
The smile of Travis
The body of Bobby
But those cultural references
unique, like no other
and the cryptic connections to the Muse
rather bizarre
And makes me blush with unapologetic
Well-placed sexual references
And sometimes tells me off nicely
but not harsh.
I asked him who is Haznat, he said
“I don’t know. Ask Elton John.”

But how do you connect with a stoner?
How, if you’re high, do you maintain your boner?
Skaters and stoners, you may want to bone them
But their disconnection and neediness always hurts me.

© Sylvie Hill dixon / “Skateboard Commission” / spray paint and enamel on wood / 2008