At Another Poetry Reading

Gave up coffee, alcohol, and smoking for lent

As I usually do, but it's the middle of lent now

And I happen to be at a poetry reading - so

That means all the lenten bets and exercises are off!

I'm drinking coffee straight up hot black and

Soaked with strength and flavor, my first in weeks.

Damn that coffee's good!

The white wine's calling out my name also

So I'm going to have to oblige that next - after all

There is a five dollar credit card minimum.

There's Theresa, the massage therapist.

How many years has it been since I've had a massage

And how much do you charge because I could really use one.

There's Christopher, bear of a man, with beaming eyes.

Beaming spiritual acceptance and sharing his hopes and dreams.

He's a great guy.

There's another Michael also, quiet and reserved and

Listening to all our words and, like myself,

Calling out for love. That's why we come to these things,

We show up searching.

So we share our work, our labor, our words,

And letters; we're poets in the truest sense of the word.

The coffee and the wine flowing and lubricating the

Verses and rhythms and rhymes and meter and all.

The small group of our foursome radiating a combined

Energy. We're our own literary island among

The other coffee shop patrons.

Clock strikes ten and the shop's about to close down.

I don't want to go! I want some more!

Adieu all, until we meet again!