The Monologist's Dialogue

The man at the cafe

In an unfamiliar land

He used to know too well

Perches like a walrus

Among songbirds, listening

To beauty and the phrases

 

He no longer understands.

The window in the air remains

A bit ajar, almost shut.

 

A balcony on the other side

Of the grey expanse of tar

Water should hold someone

 

Looking back at him, leaning

On a railing, smoking,

Even if only himself. But no.