The traditional belchers were taken
out of context. I made coffee for them.
Also, the devilization of eggs; these
theories at Doyle’s. His poetry
seesawed. But he was tall. Anyway,
I’m waiting on my eggs. Another
“anachronism that refuses to die.”
Maybe I should have asked for
mustard. Cheddar and mushroom.
His poetry seaweed.
Government is playing hooky.
Finally: Where’s my heart?
Scattered. Maybe I should have
asked for coffee and a nuclear
engineering heartache and
warm milk by the time...
