Coffee Poet

you who used to be so relevant,
cigarette hung from sun parched lips
guitar slung from a sleek tramp back
as you stomped the avenue, glory bound.
you the coffee poet, café hound,
once sang in dizzy octaves
under lights made dim to mesmerize.
and we listened, enraged,
to your Dylanesque haze
drums did the talking
once you emptied your cage.
you were oh so relevant, and now inside,
sleeping in the syllables of the songs unsung.
you the coffee poet, café bound.