4.20pm, a buzz of white noise -
Chatter, high-heels, music and the
Whir of the elevator - engulfs the
Space between us on two tall stools
Whilst a gangly man in a
Leather flat-cap (no irony)
Tries to fix my laptop.
You pick up Sharon Olds, defiantly,
And start reading.
A gesture I don't appreciate in
My hour of need. You see, the Genius is
Not a genius, and you are not here
For that.
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