Susan & the studmuffins.(Poem)

 
SUSAN & THE STUDMUFFINS 
 
   I am scribbling lines on an envelope 
   sitting in a chrome & leather lounge 
   drinking coffee & waiting for the hair stylist. 
   "Why do you write poems?" 
   Minutes tip-toe by on soft soled shoes 
   their forefingers pressed to silent lips. 
   I stop for a sip of coffee & look at the 
   Lion-haired stranger sitting across from me. 
   "It's a dead form," he continues, "why don't 
   you write a novel? Detective fiction has a ready market." 
   He explains he is an English Professor. 
   "Yes," I agree, "I should be more practical" 
   We finish our coffee in silence. I put my pencil away. 
 
   The Stylist sticks her chic head in the door 
   & asks, "Steve, do you want a natural decaffeinated 
   Late with Spirulina & organic Viagra?" 
   "No," I said, "just a haircut." 
   Silently I lament the loss of the traditional barbershop. 
   I start reading my book. 
   The stylist steps in front of me to the sink. 
   I hear a ...