4 POETS ON THE SIDEWALK


The crowd was watching
The soccer game on the tube
They were pondering not
On literature
And that was fine because
The were happy
They hold their beers
On their tables and had
Their glances trained on
The televisions that
Hang from the corners
Of the tavern

The team with the
The right colors won
By this time I was on
A different place
A restaurant not a cantina
And the poet had coffee
And I had a corona

Then it was time to
Go back to the tavern
To begin the reading
I was eager to listen to
This coffee poet read his poems

There are different types of poets
There’s coffee poets
Beer poets
Wine poets
And liquor poets
There’s also dope poets
But nowadays dope poets
Are no good
Maybe because today’s dope is bad

Whatever the case may be
I remembered how this coffee lyricist
Had a particular message for the Vatican
When he read at festival of literature
Something that stimulated my attention
So I wanted to hear more of his work

He paid the waitress and when
We were about to leave
I stopped to say hello to
A lady with a hole in her eye

She said the medicine she took
Was so strong that it burned her eye
I told her I would pray for her

By this time the Vatican versifier
Was reading some material
At the magazine rack
We stepped out the door
To an avenue of revolution

And we saw the other 2 poets
Walking our way
The queen of hearts
And the psychologist

We walked
The 4 of us
As one
She said
Who would think
That 4 poets would march
On this walkway