Wednesday, June 22, 2011

One Hour in a Coffee Shop on Commercial Drive

Coffee shop conversation
tosses back-and-forth:
stories of border-crossings
and Meat Puppet concerts
and Michael J. Fox.

Why do I always
feel the need
to document
my eavesdropping?

Apparently, Vancouver
is some sort of mecca
for punk rock—
talked about in LA,
London, and Toronto.

It’s when I kill time
and feel the need
to bring back evidence—
a souvenir, something
to show
I did more with the day
than nap.

Camou cargo-shorts explains
the necessity of firewall
and the rowdiness of Bellingham locals.

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