two men who i used
to know but who i
never knew knew each
other were sitting at
a window table as the
sky lightened to barely gray

both making a yearly pilgrimage
to the mountaintop stomping
grounds of when they were young
when they believed in revolutions

two ships momentarily run
a coffee ground on cold
october air and a well
buttered chance to catch up

"there's no replacement for family"
said the tall and pompous
actor with the demeanor of
a shark in a hawaiian shirt

"you can say that again"
replied the wiry bible
toting snowbird who used to
scramble around on roofs

somewhere through the
seven a.m. haze over my
conscious and the
florescent lampposts
the toaster popped up
two sesame bagels

("yes there is"
i wanted to sc
ream "maybe
nobody's fou
nd it yet but t
here has got t
o be some kind
of substitute to
people who w
ill only cause
you pain for
your entire l
ife longer th
an anyone e
lse you'll e
ver know")

let the doorbell
hurried goodbyes
of two rekindled
acquaintances
passing in the
morning fog
bring me back
to life

(nothing's real anyway
surrounded by how
alone i really am in this
big world small cafe)

let the rising smell
of espresso and the
bubbly hiss of 140
degree steamed milk
wake me up to something
i still can't put into words