I want to hear you traipsing up the street
Glowing all mischievous.
Magnificent corona
Reflected in inner-me.
Come sit with me, simpatico
Come sip.
I discovered you on the stoop
Ours, this and every evening.
A symbol of times lost
Generationally crammed into coffee
Shopping. We have found summer solace here
And everywhere: interlopers on the inter-web
The high-water market.
You looked so happy, Sir.
I was dressed, white collar and needed my fix
Change of internal atmosphere.
I sat level with you and the lucidity was ripe.
Certain steps of a De-generation, out of step
Come on-line.
For a moment I was proud and sure.
The night has darkened, quieted, damned,
All crisp and chill.
You have gone,
Away with the same spirit,
I miss you.
I wish you were here.
I want to hear a story.
About spitting,
About mustached men.
To feel a bravado of brotherhood.
As the man who made me settles,
Sleeps?
Where is my strange spelled man?
©DANIEL MORTON 2011
