Come where the creatives flock
with Spartan appetite
and Herculean ambition.
Their conversations come in fragmented rhythm
and stick to you in bits:
two businesswomen brainstorm,
three screenwriters pick at a plot,
four friends catch up.
There sits the solitary scholar
sniffing at his textbook,
the buried novelist
bleeding from his bar stool,
the wide-eyed poet
blazing from her leather love seat-
God pokes them one by one,
trading Pollock-futures
for Angelo-destinies.
Tables littered with moleskin notebooks
and sticker-finished MacBooks-
MacBooks littered with "Meat is Murder,"
Patagonia, a pink whale, a cannabis leaf.
Fruit tart and dirty chai please.
That'll be all.
Fuel the mind, body, soul, friendship...
Come for the cold brew;
stay for what it sparks in you.
Sheetal Tadiparty
Flickr Creative Commons
