Muffin of the Day

September 18, 2010

Pretend that I’m concocting this whole thing,
okay?—

So I’m not the lonely troubadour and I’m not
out serenading Señorita Salazar
under her bedroom window, under a
full moon—
besides, that kind of thing will get you a
drive-by from one of our cruisers. ‘Excuse me, sir,
but we have a report of an intruder.’

Most days,
I’m down at Stevo’s  for breakfast. I get to pick ‘The
Muffin of the Day’. I have my spot in the corner.
I’m not writing love poetry. Besides
I’m more an extruder. I take my meds.
I listen to the music. I talk to Stevo,
who’s from Iceland and who reads poetry
and who plays Cecil Taylor at four in the morning
when he opens up for the boat guys.
Cuttland Island lives off its charter boat business.
You Hook ‘Em, We Cook ‘Em. Not everybody likes
Cecil Taylor for breakfast, but Stevo makes a
mean pancake. Serious syrup. If you’re taking
a charter from Cuttland you start at Stevo’s.
You pour too much syrup on your pancakes
and you listen to (too much!) Cecil Taylor. And you take
a muffin for later. That’s the deal. I pick the muffin
every morning and I tape ‘The Poem of the Day’
on the counter. Every morning a muffin and a poem.
Okay—

The Chaco-Raisin. Just delicious with Stevo’s Home Brewed.

&—

This poem will use each word as the last word,
every word, as it were,
in its importance,
in all its honesty, in a circus of polyphony…

That’s today’s muffin, and that’s today’s poem—
what the locals call ‘Crumbs and Crummy’.

See you tonight, Señorita.

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2 Responses to “Muffin of the Day”

  1. extrasimile Says:

    Weighty, I can’t think of a better idea. Thanks.

  2. weighty Says:

    gonna send this to my mom


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