Coffee, After so Long

“How’s tricks, Old Man?”

“You,
kid, you
can eat a dick
as they say.
I may be
hardened
from alcohol
but I am in no way
old;
age doesn’t push the wrinkles
into your face,
it slows your body down enough
on the inside
to wrinkle you
on the outside
or it soaks you
with thought
so much that you
look pruny.”

“Didn’t your editor ever teach you not
to give characters big soliloquies?”

“No,
because back when
I
was writing
and making it big in Europe
and
you
were deciding between wasting your money
on piano
or a violin,
I wrote whatever the fuck I wanted
and people read it and knew it was good.
They didn’t have to be sold on quality,
they just knew quality when they saw it.
It’s different than now.

“Now every kid with a cheap phone
and a thumb
and a hard-on for ‘fame’ can
sit up until any hour of the night,
posting endless streams of shit on
Tumblr,
Twitter,
Facebook,
these useless sites full of wasted hours,

“And listen to me, kid,
if I was writing right now,
if I was slinging words with you
along side you,
two souls launching out
reaching for the reaches
the edges of the collective,
I wouldn’t be doing any better.

Just another voice in the noise.”

“Just another voice in the noise.

yeah I get that.”

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