In little coffeeshops
By the back corner, far from the exits
But near the little hall leading to the bathroom
At a time set by a large window
The poet, his soul filled with words and reasons to say them
But unsure how to convey them
Can observe the nerves and synapses
Converging in this single axis
The windowside throne, the great looking glass
Provides a view of every soul to pass

Through the door to the core of any good café
The front register
Where they serve the junkies
Their first no cream no sugar fix of the day
The register ******* this sunrise shift stands tall and wears
A pleasant smile
Like a suit of armor
For the fractures frayed and loosened pieces
Of her 65 hours a week between two jobs psyche

From his back corner vantage point
The poet sees this early morning warrior
And watches her adversaries approach
The sleep deprived and the caffeine dependent
The men in suits with leather briefcases
Hustling and bustling through self inflicted exhaustion
Work force revenants who begin to shamble through the door
Out of the early morning mists at about 5:30
just as the world is shrugging of the shroud of night

In his seat of power, the poet, lord of the room
Can see, despite the dim lights of the coffeeshop
These early birds, gaunt and hungry like vultures
Standing shoulder to shoulder with the last of the night owls
Shabby old things with ruffled feathers
Too tired to sleep or simply without a roost.
Their re rimmed eyes provide a window
Through which a sovereign of the word
May glance upon their tired souls

Yes from that lovely back corner
The poet is a king, a lord in noble regality
Reshaping reality
Sitting in the back of any coffee shop
In Phoenix Arizona
In America
In the world
In this whole great evergrowing span of universe
And turning people into words.

The teddy bear has a dead eyed  glare
And the boogie man is in his lair

Beneath your bed beneath your stairs
Beneath your skin you feel him there
Stalking you
From the mirrors he’s mocking you

Haunting you. wanting to
Make it all end, you know how that feels
But the voices in your head are screaming its real

When I was young I would watch the shadows on the walls
With claws and horns the danced around the halls

I’m older now , past twenty, yet can’t find
A way to end the plight and fight
The monsters in my mind

I saw the sun today, shining warm and bright like the smiling eye of god
It peaked in on me through my curtains
before I had even forgotten my dreams
Outside the air filled my lungs
And the sky was clear and crystal blue
All around me I could see the people
Talking
Moving
Imagining
Real live people
Some of them are even friends of mine,
People I know, who live in the world with me
They say life is unkind to people like me
But I say it is kinder
So if I become silent and thoughtful when you say
“I’ve had a bad day,”
Fear not
I am just reminding myself there is no such thing.

I left Barnes and Noble in tears
when the words swam through the in store speakers
through my ears,
into my skull
to my heart, and opened
the box in my soul labeled
Things I never told my dad before he left.
I was with him at the last bus stop
There in that cozy white room where
All that was left was to wait.
If I closed my eyes
I could imagine the sound of
An idling engine waiting
I could almost see
An impatient  agelict cabbie
Fussing over the meter.
I don’t know suzzane
Nor what plans put an end to her,
But I know what it means
To hide in the hulking fuselage
Of the dream you thought
Would fly you to where
you wanted to be.
And I know how it feels
When the veil is taken down
And you think of
all the times
You didn’t say
I love you.

On the shore of this moment, looking out to the sea of eternity
I saw two stars fall, and land glimmering at my feet
My legs ache from the shackles on my legs that you never took off
But even so I am climbing you ivory towers
Clutching the stars in my hands
Through twisting corridors of scorn and praise
I am Perseus in your labyrinth
But you are no Minotaur, but the girl I love
I am not here to hurt you
I want to return the stars that fell from your eyes
So you can see me like you used to.

It was a time of mad irreverence, of lawless bedlam
When the shackles which bound our restless souls
To the tiny wooden cells
where we worked on the arithmetic  chain gang
watched by the warden of words and numbers,
she who ruled that house of order with an iron fist and a wooden ruler
were  stuck off, and lost all hold on us

It was freedom, and it burnt hot and wild in our veins,
the heat perhaps intensified
by the sweltering oven the sun made of every inch of unshaded ground
In the feverish, mad world of summer, we were kings
We ruled, and laughed at those who would rule us
Foolish, reckless dangerous, unstoppable, crazy, free,
Young

Untamed,  shameless, we ran in droves
And the clamoring, thunderous roar of laden pickups
Music and laughter spilling out of the windows
Seats stuffed full of hormones and hedonism
Dominated every lonesome dirt road in all of Arizona
We drank and smoked and swam in a sea of uninhibited adolescence
And then it was over, and we went back to our chains.

Waiting, ever waiting
The young wait for their life to begin
Until they get old and wait to die

Waiting, ever waiting
Watch the bus pulling away,
And count the seconds as they run away towards infinity
Watch the clock pick your pocket like a vulture picks a corpse
Waste your time dreaming
Waste yourself drinking
Live your life a slave to a screen and a victim to the clock

Waiting, ever waiting
Wait your days away, and tell yourself the time will come
Watch the time come and go, through the ever revolving door
Someday, tomorrow, in a week, fooling yourself with broken promises
Until one day the hospital heart monitor delivers your final deadline

Time’s up.