Ken Kakareka

About Mid-day

A good café 
is important 
for a writer. 
There aren’t 
many 
good cafés
or writers 
left. 
I have a good café 
that I go to 
downtown. 
It still preserves 
its important features – 
framed photos 
of when it opened, 
sturdy tables 
with chipped edges, 
and unquestionably 
strong coffee. 
There are other 
important features, 
but these are some 
that stimulate me 
now. 
It is Rialto Café 
on Wilshire Ave. 
There is not much 
seating, 
and the windows 
are large enough 
to get lost through. 
It’s important 
to be able 
to get lost 
through the windows 
of a good café. 
The only thing 
that bothers me 
today 
about Rialto 
is that 
the 3 new young kids 
working 
haven’t looked up 
from their phones 
since I started 
this poem. 
And I’m almost 
done. 
The 2 girls 
in the kitchen 
are checking out 
a new dating app 
that they’re giddy 
about. 
And the curly-haired boy 
leaning on the counter 
is watching 
the World Cup. 
I can’t say 
I blame him. 
It would be 
in good taste 
if it was in 
the right setting. 
But not while 
you’re supposed to be 
attentive 
to a sensitive writer 
whose coffee cup 
is empty. 
Maybe they’re just 
entertaining the fact 
that I’m writing. 
But I highly doubt it. 
I want to give 
these younger kids 
the benefit 
of the doubt. 
I remember a time 
when you couldn’t be 
on your phone 
at work. 
How did phones 
wiggle their way 
into everything 
we do? 
My pocket is vibrating; 
it’s my sister 
sending me snaps 
of the kids. 
Time to 
check my phone, 
see what kind of 
shenanigans
my niece and nephew 
are up to
and then get lost 
through the windows.