but better

it's not the same as if I were

at some café somewhere

bean town or the apple

Crestone or Amsterdam

it's the same hand holding the pen

not likely the same moleskin

it's possible anything is possible

under the cover of dark and clouds

and two out of three ain't bad

it's not the same as it once was

merely one or two years ago

my own wooden table

same table my grandfather

used to sit at not some crappy booth

with gum stuck to the bottom of the table

lit as I desire not some heat lamp

and smoke stained glass windowed walls

on two out of four sides

it's not the same Brocktown I once knew

a spot where I could sit for hours

and no one would even know I was there

used to sit out on the front porch even in the rain

back then in solitude there

as I am here out on the back porch

it's not the same

and I am glad for that

it's not the same but better

no matter who you ask and what they say

everything about what I do is better

it's not the same it's better

than any wish list fulfillment

or dream dotted together in some journal...