Debbie Tosun Kilday is a next generation Beat Poet, award winning author, writer, nature photographer, artist and is the owner/CEO of the National Beat Poetry Foundation, Inc. (NBPF), and its festivals.
She is Special Events Director of Connecticut Authors and Publishers Association, (CAPA), manages the CAPA Bookstore and a Past President.
Author of several published books, short stories and poetry. She has appeared on television and radio.
Debbie is a Connecticut native and resident.
It was 10am. I was working the day shift at the Kerouac Cafe & Bookstore.
Not many people read books anymore, especially poetry books. They also have no use for people most of the time, unless they can use them for some reason or another.
As I sat on an old piano stool that had been there since the beginning of time, long after the old player piano had been sold and taken away by antique dealers, I started to watch the expressions of people passing by the front plate glass window. I was positioned in such a way that I could see everyone passing by on the sidewalk, but also beyond that.
I saw passengers faces riding by in the cars on the street too. Some sad, some glad, some looking like they were moderately mad. There was one cute little brown eyed girl clutching her dolly and laughing at what her dolly seemed to say.
People are funny creatures. They won't give you the time of day. They are rushing to get to nowhere. Worried they will miss something, yet, they don't know what that something is. Most look determined to reach a certain destination. They have no time to stop in the cafe & bookstore, grab a cup of joe, indulge in a little conversation, read some spontaneous prose.
In the Kerouac Cafe & Bookstore we have some real smooth jazz playing in the background.
Me? I take my coffee black and when no ones looking, I may sneak a tiny drop or two of fine Bourbon in there just for flavor. I've read all the books in this place, listened to the extensive collection of jazz available here.
I'm a thinker. I ponder the reasons why I'm here, where Ive been, where I'll go next. I used to make plans for a life. I was just like one of those poor souls outside rushing to nowhere.
Time is cruel. It passes quickly just as the people do in your life. I've determined there's no time worth the time it takes to love someone.
I used to look forward to seeing my love, rushing to meet them. There weren't enough hours in a day to spend. In summer we used to go on little picnics in the woods, lying on a fuzzy old blanket, looking lovingly at each other, making love.
Once a little bird perched above us on a branch, watching us entwined in each other's embrace. The bird flew away just as my love did.
Life is lonely now. I sit on this old piano stool, listening to sad music, sipping tainted coffee, staring out a window, watching people pass me by. Time ticks away, waiting for no one.
