Tag Archives: coffee

Postcard from Home

Postcard said he checked two shelters last night
They all full and I got there early
I had to sleep at the airport – no one likes to sleep on the blue line

Postcard said he checked at three shelters Christmas night

Postcard keeps himself groomed and ready to work
Nobody got no work
Nobody got no money
All the shelters fillin’ up
And I got there early

I wondered who felt better
After the burgers and coffee

September Birds Revisited

Your eyes flit across the page landing on the words long enough
To extract the pollen of my emotion
You are reading about birds – doomed birds – but you don’t know it yet
The coffee on the iron bench beside you is starting to get cold

I can see by the sparkle in your eyes where you are on the page
You are still here in Chicago – you love the child and his mother
I love you for seeing my family in them – seeing me and seeing my own mother
My coffee is perfect – crisp like the pages you hold in your hand

As you turn the page I am with you all the way to the small village in Italy
You stop to let something sink in – I think you might have an idea where this is going
You sip the coffee and look at me as if to ask the question you don’t want me to answer
Then back to the page as I pivot restlessly poking through my pockets for a cigarette.

I see the tears welling up and rolling down your perfect face and I feel bad for a minute
I know how the story ends so I’m not sad about the old man -I just don’t want you to feel conned
You know me well enough to know how it is going to end – but you’ve been tricked before
You place your hand on your chest and hitch once – twice – then you look up at me and smile

Later – at the bar – I am pouring drinks for the families at your engagement party
Your face is so tragically twisted in sadness it forces you to apologize to me
You look me in the eye – and through your tears – at your party – your big night
You ask me to understand – you tell me it was just one of those things

One minute we are sharing coffee and words and thoughts and love
The next minute we’re back on opposite sides of a chasm that is only a few feet wide
But it may as well be a few miles wide – you can’t even look at me anymore
And we are back in 1976 a low-rent Romeo and Juliet with nothing and everything to say