The bamboo leaves rustle
in the wind
and grass grows greener
in the short shadow
of a crouching cat.

Walking up Cherrywood,
my Charlie’s Special
and small coffee wait
at El Chilito.

If I get three
roasted salsas
instead of two,
I’ll know that
the girl in the window
has noticed
my overgrown beard
and approves.

I sit at a picnic bench
and peck with the pigeons;
my laptop pulled open,
poetry tap-tap-tapping.

I hear my name
and I see the brown bag
sitting on the ledge,
lonely. Nobody
reaches for it,
except me.

I peel back foil
and admire boiled
My mouth waters for
and munches chorizo.

If there is a finer
breakfast taco,
I do not know it.
I have been in love
with Charlie’s Special
since the day I moved
to Austin.

written on 02/17/2014 by: Matt Kane