This Is For You

This is for the patrons of late night diners.

The ones who drink cold coffee with linoleum colored lights stained in their eyes.

Where the coffee stains and sugar crystals on the tabletops become star-encrusted galaxies.

Sitting alone at a table with 3 other chairs.

This is for you.

This is for the lone beach goer.



and book in tow.

Sitting inaudibly in the sand under a gleaming sun;

As people walk by you without a first (or last) glance,

quietly kicking sand on your gently creased blanket.

This is for you.

This is for the abused,


melancholic man who finds his home under bridges,

atop park benches,

and within doorways.

Where your slumbering body imprints weariness into the hot concrete.



and calumny are all daily doses of your regular diet.

And hope is tied up inside the pocket of the faith-driven.

This is for you.

This is for the solitary book store employee,

the sole whiskey sipper in the dark recesses of an anemic road house,

the isolated espresso bar poet,

the forsaken piano player in the slow jazz club,

the unwanted gay teen teetering on the Golden Gate,

the unaccompanied and insomnia-laced subway rider.

The world and all of her poisoned offspring may have deprecated you all as ill-omens;

But I haven’t.

This is for you.

This Is For You


– 1985 A.D.


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