Team Arm

I am inhabiting this lobby
deep in the angelic aftermath of my dawn.
There are people spilling from rooms
across the marble floor asking for
thin red food and sewing kit loops.
A jazzed-up lady is talking too loud
for even Texas where things are bigger and stuff.
That wish that the people who drink coffee
in lobbies would just not talk for a minute
while I catch my breath. I mean, really.
Some people are simply too awake
to make a motion with the hand
as though it is doing the talking.
Of course you have tricks
you can play on these people. For instance:
Everyone knows a cell phone emits the pleasure
of words and can even make the hair
on your arms stand on end when I whisper to you
through the mouthpiece. I encourage you
to try this the next time I call you:
I'll talk to your arm and you'll
realize I am a man of my words.