Creeping around on this planet
Creeping around on this planet in the wee wee hours filling up my ears with sounds of what's going on forgetting who I was and where I'm going I find myself at my table here feeling kind of at home cause the counterman knew what I wanted and I have been quietly ordering the same thing every night for 2 months and now I'm part of their world and I can watch them and absorb them as a part of them and I don't have to feel like I'm sneaking around peeping in keyholes anymore.
There was a big fellow sitting at a table with a bunch of beatniks. He was on crutches and his big animal face looked a little out of place with his poetic companions and it came that he is just back from the war in Viet Nam and I was touched to see the two sides of this country exchanging experience and I pictured this big strong American somewhere in a foxhole in Viet Nam with the bombs bursting and his buddies dying and I heard a quiet prayer and a solemn promise that if he came out of this he was going to find out just what the hell was really going on in this country, what put him on that battlefront and who was he helping and why and he got back whole and he's looking, he wants to know and I pray to God those proud poets over there give him a little of what he's looking for cause he's been hurt and he's still hurting and we owe him something and he's asking! He just ordered a round of coffee for the whole table. GOD BLESS HIM!Mel Lyman