— Dennis Richardson
Today is your day of choosing, a gift from me to you,
time to choose with thought rather than grab the hurry,
the import of your morning now laid at your fingertips:
washer. I didn’t choose one for you.
And there were two different kinds of coffee filter holders, even two different bags of beans to grind,
a difference I could not taste or smell, the choose
surely you would prefer to make over mine. It is my day for locuation, to ponder about the word
locution which I, at first, thought had to do
with locomotives, or possibly, the act of crazy, which made me think it might have something to do
with Occupy Wall Street, you can see where the crazy
came from, people mad as hell and standing for it and this on both sides, a one per cent versus
ninety-nine per cent, a choosing made easy,
the per cents yelling at me, “Are you loco?” I know I grabbed your arm just after you had a chance
to choose your mug. And then pushed you toward the door
to go catch the train, you just reaching for the coffee pot. But I have to save you I say. It’s getting pretty ugly here.
You can get your coffee in the dining car…
I don’t understand why you choose not to come?