A Poem I Found At A Hotdog Stand
It Is Nine Thirty On A Sunday Morning.
I Go To Home Depot To Buy A Wrench.
On My Way Out I Stop At The Coffee Stand.

The Attendant Is Young, Tall, And Beautiful.
Me- “is It Too Early For A Hotdog?
Her- “is It Ever Too Early For A Hotdog?
Me- “well If They Are Still Frozen, Yes.

I Have Been Doing The Circuit For A While Now.
I Have Noticed The Ones, Who Are Published,
Even If They Had To Pay
All The Expenses Themselves,
Even If No One Has Ever Read
The Magazine They Got Published In,
Get The Respect.

The Ones Who Make People Laugh,
The Ones Who Speak Of Sex
In No Uncertain Terms,
The Ones Who Play A Musical Instrument While Reading,
Those Who Scream And Curse Like Madmen
Those Who Read In Three-Part Harmony,
And Can Work The Room
“hey Anybody Here From Detroit? ”
Those Are The Ones Who Get The Audience.

Every Woman Who Lives On This Earth
Has A Theory Of Men.
Where They Came From And What They Are Good For.
Whether They Are Safe To Keep In The House,
Or Best Kept Chained Up In The Yard,
Or To Dangerous To Mess With At All.

They Form These Theories Early
And Spend The Rest Of Their Lives
Gathering Evidence Supporting Their Thesis.
There Isn’t Much Movement
On The Opinion Front
As Time Goes By.
You Find What You Seek
And See What You Are Looking For.