haven't been here since way back when
I was infatuated with a gal called Suzanne,
but whom I referred to as Somewhere
in the early books.
My favorite ways to time travel
are via music and smells,
and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee is hard to miss
walking up South Wellwood Avenue – the sweet smell
still drifts along the sidewalk.
I remember the cafe itself was surprisingly big,
somehow hiding a bunch of its seating,
from the first look on the outside,
as well as a makeshift stage
which I disgraced back in 2008.
I close my eyes and see it:
the color scheme throughout felt like fall,
with deep reds and oranges,
making the cafe feel warmer in a wonderful way,
despite, perhaps, the summer outside.
We were looking for something to do together
after fucking away the afternoons back then;
we thought of truck routes, bagel stores...
none of it fit the feeling of being young
and dumb hopefully forever.
I remember she got chicken fingers,
and I got a piece of pecan pie,
then we were joined by another sweet thing –
the sounds of voices singing, guitars strumming
and the organic applause of an unexacting audience.
I read a poem then for Somewhere,
and now here I am, back in time
after a ride on the LIRR,
never dreaming I would ever come back,
but I am for work and the worst part is the cafe is now a T-Mobile.