saint starbux

two ppl sit stretched out on the floor
discussing smoking and God
thats all i can hear besides that the girl’s voice
is cautious and somhow condescending.
she must have authority to xplain down to him.
so i want to learn from her.
maybe shes dogtailing her way in and out of morality
to keep the boy from chewing his nails
completely off his fingertips.

the metrosexual at the next table is eaves-dropping too.
i can tell by the ever so forced-casual tilt of his hed
gathering a visual on such a divine oracle.
hes reading “India,” and next to his cell fone is his purified water.
somhow her condescending mother-theresa lov of the damned to hell
appeals to his stubble-jawed, leather jacketed world-view.

he’d wish he could follow me
as i pretend to sleepwalk,
wander blindly into their midst,
psuedodreaming next to their discourse,
lay down by the nail-biter and join the lesson
in my sleeper’s guise
from this insecure martyr.

nov 19, 2004