3:00am Poet

I once was the poet
sitting in a booth at Denny’s
at three a.m.
drunk,
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.

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2 Comments

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.

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