BREAKFAST IN BED WITH BEN FOLDS

i woke up this morning to a stranger at my bedroom doorway
it was Ben Folds, charming as i imagined him
he carried a tray of eggs and sausage and pancakes
and coffee and orange juice
he set it beside me on the bed and he said to me,
“the more you know you know don’t know shit,”
and i said “that’s not how you greet someone in the morning,”
and he said “why you gotta act like you know when you don’t know?”
and i said “you’re right, ben folds. thanks for bringing me breakfast,”
and he said “you’re welcome, brice,”
and then he picked up my guitar in the corner and began playing Jesusland
and i fell back asleep out of this dream of a morning where the music
coming from my portable cellular phone’s speaker is a conversation
that i can have whenever and wherever i need
and it’s not all bad and the morning is my second favorite
after the late night that can hurt so beautifully
but they need each other and this morning i needed breakfast in bed
with Ben Folds, thank you Ben Folds, thanks for the conversation
and for the orange juice, you’re a good guy i think, Ben Folds, i think so

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

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