And they’re playing the Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark songs again, an obvious choice for a Sunday with overcast sky. And the barrista in a long black coat plays each CD twice through. And I should say I was at this cafe a long long time. And I stared at one young man who drank his chai tea real slow. And it turns out he had these huge tan biceps—And I asked myself, How can he keep those guns pumped up when he drinks so much chai tea and snort-smokes Camel Lights like no new-waver’s business? And I should have said something big then, like all Pure Poetry has gone forever. And I should have put my palms over my face, flipped my collar up.
© 2007 Daniel Nester
is the author of
God Save My Queen
