If you give him cash
he gives you pizza,

he will register the cash
and move on to a deeper dough
which he molds
with his old
nimble fingers.

A poet, a painter
a drummer, a singer
a pizza-maker
an artist, or a faker?

We wait outside on a bench
I am drenched with stares
which rain upon my hair
I hear the walrus bark inside
I wanna depart on a trippin’ ride
regardless of whether I slip or slide.

I mean,
what Is more beautiful
than when walruses convene?
Nothing leaves me more full
nothing has a pull
so centrifugal.

The walrus barks;
for a stark
real
meal
of pizza.

I take my two slices
and marvel at his devices
of creation,
and I am buzzed with revelation
wired
inspired
not by caffeine
but by the walruses who convene.

I say to my pizza,
I’m gonna eat ya.
The cheese pleases
the crust satiates
the nourishment demaciates.

Physically,
I am enjoyed
entertained
by his art,

but quizzically,

there is employed
in my veins
in my heart

--a start--
a reason to live
life to give.