Not trained by ancient Asian wisdom,
my conversation is hokey; pokey; flawed
by guffawed anecdotes, insecurities and abruptions.
Timing is everything, except, when it is not.
Timing can accentuate, deflate, and obliterate.
I have timing in me.
My heart beats, my feet move, my mind races to words.
I dance to my own poetry.
After conventional questions where
do we go for coffee? Where does the pastry
of common reference get consumed?
Perhaps in parking lots on your way home,
stepping around puddles of unknown
personal boundaries, a few hard won
ideas about the world, private conclusions
shared only with loved ones, bubble up
even as the evening draws its close.
I tell you,
how arrogance follows me,
why I always say,
you never know.