3:00am Poet

I once was the poet
sitting in a booth at Denny’s
at three a.m.
hunched over
a syrup covered plate of pancakes.

Looking at my reflection in the window
as if
I was an actor
in some low budget B Grade movie.

I made even the night uncomfortable.

I would write incoherent sentences
on the paper placemat,
and draw little pictures
of bug eyed
tortured souls.

I would rattle the nerves
of the waitresses
who would reluctantly come
to refill my coffee.

The encounter
produced a poet -phobia
amongst the late night crew at Denny’s.

A fear
that lasted for years.



Filed under outlaw poetry, poetry, short stories

2 responses to “3:00am Poet

  1. I was one of the 3 am Poet too. My problem. I got a fan club and other strange people joined my table. A very good story in the poem.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s