Inspired to anger

  Our homeschool co-op is studying poetry this month, and I have a book for children that irreverently lists the types of poets. There's the "secret poet," "hip-hop poet," "angry poet," etc. Today when I dropped off the kids at the zoo for a class about frogs, I went to a nearby coffee shop to read poetry books. As if by some curse, the same guy who always seems to be in this coffee shop was there. He inspired this poem. I'd classify myself as an angry poet.

Coffee shop commie guy

The man in the coffee shop talks politics
while I try to read my book.
Ostensibly, he's talking to one person,
but really, he speaks to us all,
his unwilling audience.

The war? Yes, we know you think it's bad.
You think taxes are unfair.
You distrust the School Board,
the mayor,
the Census,
rich people,
and corporations.

Your hippie hair
and camo jacket
are a specific uniform.
But dude, you're not old enough
to have been in 'Nam.
Who are you kidding?

You don't like the war.
You think taxes are unfair.
Now be quiet and let me read my book.