one late nite cafe,
two polos, one digital exchange, two
dollar pizza slices, one aryan deity
scratching sharp notes in forest
green ink, two white-washed pairs of
jeans, one modest attendant, two
bombastic mouths, one silver watch
the size of a small, hungry field mouse,
two hot coffees w/ milk and sugar,
several “bros”, many “man”s,
four wooden chairs, one bespectacled
ivory-haired man, six hours ‘til sunrise,
& hundreds of blue-faced customers.
“it’s like hearing someone fart for days.”
“i guess we’re all idiots.”
WL
