I don’t know what time it is
I’m sitting at the Starbucks
The one down Ames
Listening to the gossip babble
Of the girl parked next to me blathering on and on
to the two blond twins sitting next to her
About Charles and the dance class and her hurt knee
As the barista shouts out drinks that break through the fragile
wall of concentration in my brain like a jackhammer
while jazz blares too loud over speakers
drowned out only by the annoying ring of the
blackberries of pretentious Cambridge businessmen
How urgent is their business anyway
Ian’s hands rub soothing circles on my back
And I’m just annoyed because nothing’s working out right
But the people around me work just fine
Another woman at the long wood table
typing deliberately and oblivious to the mundane around her
even as it swallows me
I see a Jack Florey with his pink hair orders coffee just as cool as can be
Walks out not a care in the world
And I look at the smiling mermaid and think
How I wish I could be you
Instead I sit writing in deep blue ink on white paper
With perforated dotted strips and wondering where it all comes from.