These track lights
pop music
wood chairs
concatenate
to custom coffee us
into a seated desecration
a meditation intubation
in which we all hide
from the rain
and embrace our task
and our quiet pain.
A few screens
much ceramic
concentration
each focal joint
structured to pluck
the heart-stinging cosmos
and all of its secular strings.
It was in this place
somewhere some other when
that insurance began
that religion outran
that the fan found what shit was
and every oracular eyeball
brushed aside
another community fly
to dwell together
under the roofline
of our Café Zen.
Roman Ryan 