Into The Night And Fog: Our First Breakfast

Our First Breakfast

Our first breakfast together was at Choux Factory

along 1st Avenue near 87th.

You had a small coffee and decided against a brownie.

I need my morning caffeine, first -- you said.

I ordered a small green tea and a chocolate croissant.

The morning felt cold and fresh,

though I was still judging by LA standards.

You mentioned that it was one of the

last Beautiful Days of the season.

We leaned across the table to kiss,

then you left for work,

while I roamed the basement stacks at Strand.

I picked up a book that said we over-estimate our talent

and abilities

because facing our flaws is too difficult.

Only the Depressed are Realists.

The place was crowded with hipsters from NYU

who thought Sylvia Plath was the greatest thing.

I got annoyed with them, and left

to find leather boots for the encroaching winter.

Nothing fit and everything was too expensive.

Coming home, I got off the E line before my usual stop

to pick up some Thai food.

I spent the next few hours thinking about my eventual Death

and what I should do beforehand.

You text me to say that Bossa Nova wasn’t your thing,

but that American Imperialism was, in fact,

justified Exceptionalism.

We made a few more jokes, then said goodnight.

Into The Night And Fog