Someone brings me around
To brittle eggs in a cash court

Cashiers nervous but unhurried as furnishings,
muted in chaos disguised as efficiency

It’s my first stop in a long morning
of savored poetry and Radiohead

Window seats are but
prized possessions

After the cafeteria flummox
In plywood playpens of misgivings

For I’d love a piece of couch
Named after a long lost lover

But the intertwining of memories
may sink the housing experience

In ruminations
of sexual turmoil

And after the temporary ecstasy
We still must bus our table

(much thanks to Elizabeth Hurst, Ed Mycue, Tony Tepper and Gerry Fleming)