The streetlight blinked out
Across the street
On the corner of Main and Broadway

The puddles in the road are grabbing
What little light they can
From passing headlights
Tiny collections of planets
Who have lost their sun.

The rest of this café are in twos
Writers meeting actors
Meeting filmmakers
Stealing stories

They’re all addicted
Their sponsors are their dealers
They’re all collecting feathers
Building wings.

The light blinks on, sputtering
Orange and then
White again
The corner glows once more
And I can see you

In the window
Of the first restaurant on Broadway
You’re finishing your meal

Lunch with your uncle
Who you think is a real man
Because he drives a company car
You have a dreamy look
And I wonder…

Are you tired of playing music and listening to me talk?
Tired of building wings
When there are already ladders
Built for you
Standing, under their destinations,

Or else in boxes
That arrive in the mail
“Ladder” marked clearly on the cardboard
With simply assembly instructions inside.