Don’t Let Your Coffee Get Cold

Wires run in all directions, and yes, that’s true…

Nonsense from the optimistic 80’s pours from the old speakers,

For just a while the horns soothe,

Search,

And then find the range,

Sweetness gone by the boards holds the greatest sway…

Progressively the tortoise shuffles,

Straight line,

Just like a man dancing on a wire in mid-air,

Dancing each four-footed step so it’ll count for more,

So the dancing will stand up to the scrutiny,

Pass muster with the silent majority…

Shifting into that gear driven by saxophone,

And the drumbeats that accompanied the guy I used to be,

Filling up a window seat on a late-day commuter train,

Tired,

But done with one more day,

On the way home,

Feeling like a local hero,

For the first time in a long time.

End. Rev2 6 November 2009, 11.46 p.m.

© David Mark Speer, Brooklyn.