(10) Poem
Poem
“Listen, boy.”
The voice is officious, stern and
Entirely invented.
“When the money dries up so do the coffees.
Think about it.”
Today I avoided the beach
Because of an old enemy.
“Yeah, well, it’s a real crap shoot.”
I wait for the “it” to reveal itself
But the voice is lighting a cigar. It
Has a Texan accent, moustache.
“Orgies. Here’s the thing no one tells you.”
Moved on already, and I am moving too
Hitting the road tomorrow with
Andrew, Comfrey, Lauren and Tom.