my inner poet
stomps up the coffee house 
stairs- half hour late

she’s Hologram Girl
Cindi Sunshine- all my
Superheroes wearing

combat boots
Lennon glasses 

a thousand emerald eyes

she thumps on my
table stares deep
and demands in her 

Jersey Girl voice 
“So what am I now –
your therapist?

you gotta focus 
that kaleidoscope
brain – too scattered 

too much Word-Shine”

she starts dancing – 
downstairs –  drums beat 
a light show wails