A One-Sided Conversation in a Coffee Shop
Too distracted to talk
To pages of poems
So I’ll just stalk
The stalkers with the face cake and combs.
Ginsberg can wait.
He’s waited since copyright 1956
Until this date to date.
Coffee’s getting old and cold so
Drink up and have another cup
And hope the cover of my book shows up
For all to see
While I concentrate on myths of other’s
Concentration on me.
Trapped by terrible temptresses.
No, trapped by terribly tedious tormentors
Of the mind who sit at coffee with me
And go on and on and on about
Nothing much at all.
Don’t be so rude.
I should bump Beelzebul’s bums
And give my undivided attention
To the poet before me. You see,
I paid him to be with me.
The others get coffee with me for free.
But just think of the cost of distraction.
Where is the Buddha when you need him?