There is a man at the coffee shop I frequent
He sits in the same corner in the same sweater
And hasn't missed a day since I've moved there
I've never seen him order a coffee, but he always has one
Never seen him eat, but he isn't small
And all this man ever does is take notes
He's got a pocket size notebook
A twenty five cent pen and a mustache
And the only time his hand stops writing
Is to take a drink of coffee
He's not normal
I could tell it the first time I saw him
He writes like chipmunks eat
Keeps it close to his face
I hope one day I'm flipping through case studies
And find his
It'd be about interactions
Or communal relationships
Or some fancy way of saying strangers don't talk
They only judge from afar
It'll have won whatever literary prize they give for that kind of thing
Changed the way people thought about each other
Books will be written about the book he wrote
And his little notebooks and twenty five cent pens
Will sell at auctions for thousands
But that's wishful thinking
He's different
I knew that the first time I saw him
I've gone through a lot of scenarios
Character development for a novel
A series of short stories derived from first impressions
Of everyone who comes in
A poet without a laptop
Maybe even a hit list
But he's unusual
I knew that the first time I saw him
This isn't something normal people do
He isn't making believe
He's making friends
I imagine he hasn't had too many in his lifetime
He's probably not been very good at it
So now he's just making them for himself
Taking notes on their likes, dislikes, interests, hobbies, occupations
Eavesdropping the CIA would be jealous of
All so that after closing time
He can go home to his studio above a repair shop
He pays for with social security
And have conversations with them
I can picture his closet full of clothes
Male, female, juniors, adults, maternity
He talks to an empty space on the other side of the room
“Hey, how's your day?”
He takes off his clothes puts on a dress
Walks over to the dead space turns around and says
“Good, hey you look sad is everything alright?”
Takes off the dress, puts his clothes back on
Walks back across the room
“Yeah, it's just that Gary works in engineering, I had him pegged for a dentist”
Changes again
“It's okay, people aren't always what they seem,
Besides I like engineers better than dentists”
“I know” he says back to her
“That's why I think he'd be perfect for you”
“Oh no, no more blind dates”
“Yes I'm serious I think he's the one for you”
“I do so bad at these things”
“Well I'll just have to ask him for you, are you available tomorrow night”
“I guess”
He changes into a third set of clothes,
Then a forth,
A fifthAnd before the sun comes up
There's been a marriage
A hockey game
A lecture on physics
And little Tim had a cello recital
He's dangerous
I knew it the first time I saw him
One day Nikki won't answer his phone calls
Sam won't have a new lecture prepared
And he'll come back to the coffee shop
And make them,
Teach them a lesson,
Exact revenge,
Or maybe he'll just throw away their outfit
Either way ****** is just a mind set
He could win an Oscar for his portrayal of any regular in here
But they've all disappointed him a time or two too many
He's not that different
I've learned that over time
He's got more friends than I do
But none more alive
A collection of poems by me is available on Amazon
Where She Left Me - Michael DeVoe
http://goo.gl/5x3Tae
