Sunny Afternoon

Wicker Park coffee bar:
I’m stirred, ill-starred, I
sit surrounded. Bounds
the deer, straight into a
headlight: two, bright. I
hang on one more cup,
rapping to a sylph that
hovers above: save me
from this squeeze, tracks
on my knee. She stirs
me more. I spoon #2
better, who’s on a cell
phone date even as we
speak: talk to me. Please.