National Poetry Month: Day 18

Backstory

In the empty coffee shop
of half-familiar pop songs
I am hoping the rain
has stopped, untangling
my small morning
immeasurably.

I am all foot-tap and time-check
watching the wet street
for my ride
already
in my head
halfway home
and on to the next thing.

This would be easier
with some cast of characters
to distract.
Instead
I write backstory
for chairs
the brilliant blue table
narrate
the never ending parade of oh my gods
on the street outside.