and now

I sit
sit
sit
in a fishbowl of coffee drinkers
striking away at letters on the pad;
letters on the plastic.
Insignificance on the plastic;
industrialized plastic that provides meaning.
How the hell did I get here?

I remember
‘member
‘member
being in this fishbowl when it wasn’t a fishbowl.
heart beating like a crazed lunatic,
mouth dry, tongue torched with nervousness.
legs twitching and
our eyes darting.
And now,
I sit
sit
sit
staring at some plastic,
trying to find meaning.

our figures
there
simple
and pure,
illuminated by magic.
Magic that no person could ever see.
Remnants of that magic can be seen by my mind’s eye.
my mind’s memory banks
teaseing with images;
Smiles,
Laughter,
Fidgeting.
Nothing that could ever,
or should ever, be measured for its beauty.
I know of its beauty
and I will always know of it.

And I know you know of it too.

I’m tired of being measured with spoons
Of being poured into a semi-plastic piece
of insignificant industrialized nothing with snow flakes printed on the outside,
only to have soy milk
and 'organic' sugar added to it
and then sipped on for comfort by the measurers of this world who finger the coffee jacket made of 100% recycled cardboard.

I want to know you like I did that day,
when everything was raw and pure and undiluted
and without artificial flavoring.