M street

I didn't go to my new job today, of hustling
invisible packages of fun to the lost and naive.
wait, did i just say that?  admitting to a scam?
truth is i don't even know what it is or was
but what i do know is there was no gaurantee
of payment...just of hope that they were on the up
and up...and for today i couldn't handle that.
my head was someplace else, trying to wake up...
trying to come alive and be somebody...
somebody new, somebody else, somebody
that resembles me, but has a steady income
and a daughter who lives in the same house,
the same town, the same state...
someone with a home instead of just his imagination
that will have to do for now...
I remembered a few years ago i took my car
in to get fixed to some garage somewhere deep
in the valley, and a fifty something year old female
lesbian sage mechanic, besides giving me a great deal
on my vehicular issues, directed me to a coffee house
on M street that was magic she said...and it would change my life.
and so I went there...and sat
and sat...
and waited...
came back the next day even...
but still no magic...
that i could see anyway...then i stopped going
and even left town...a few more detours in a life that
i am so ready to stop and smell the same flowers
and even coffee, on the same damn corner
for awhile, if only she were here too...my little dreamer hero.
today, a few years later I returned to give the magic
coffee shop another chance...on the possibillity that maybe
i just simply did not give it enough time...
so i went back
to write things...and maybe even poetry.
and there you were
sitting in the far corner of the magic coffee shop
looking so familiar...writing...
seeming to be quite animated with the story in front of you,
or maybe you were trading instant messages
with a lover or a friend...or your
mother...but no matter what it was, your eye was twitching...
and i stared...because that is my disiese;
to stare at any living beautiful interesting female faces like
they are paintings on a wall, or a movie carrying me away to someplace else
but of course is incapable of catching me in my sickness of getting lost
or maybe found in them since they are not human...
but reality sometimes creeps in, and as it did...i was caught,
and then she gathered her belongings and stories and left.
and i sat still, patiently waiting for another familiar painting
or flash of light through cellular love to come alive and
subliminally whisper secrets that I've waited for
all these years...
but then it happened...
she returned
and we talked
all day
and i will rest easier tonight
since i was able to at last make a real moment more alive than art...
but yet the truth is she didnt come back...
but this is my pencil
and my paper
and my art
and yes even my rules
and whether it's life or art
i don't care...
it's still alive
and the only me i know today
so it will have to do for now...
and that is where our story begins
thankful for the advice of a sage mechanic in the valley
as i sit in the middle of the magic coffee shop
on M street....about to finally believe.