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BOOK CAFÉ
I speak not but spit snot
I speak not visual-vocals in void
…..But 2 evoke thy psyche
Utter not hollow heart bit whispers
Breath out immortal echoes to fuel empty tankers
4 we must lampoon that baboon low with its high tennis courts
In deep ink I print my blistered body
The de-caff in the Book Café decolonized my coffee-pot
Illiterate me can now Braille the author’s palm and comprehend. …
I read the rainbow so need not my plastic coat for his rain is dry and over
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