Portrait Of The Artiste As A Young Putz Poem by Kalikiano Kalei

Saturday's early Café del Sol

Saw him sucking espresso,

The existentialist autist

Striking a feigned Papa pose,

All khaki and paper,

Seated by the railing,

Writing deathless prose,

Where he imagined girls

Would walk by

And see him,

Falling instantly in love

With his inscrutable mind.

Life was rich

And full of promise,

Excitement lay around every

Bend in the jungle path,

If only

The right young woman

Would pass by and recognise

His indisputable genius.

It never worked, however.

Berkeley was full

Of such lonely dreamers.

Most of them

Have since died,

Old men

In soup-stained mufti,

Unfulfilled by even

A compassionate

Hand-job given

By a nurse

in the assisted

living

unit.