Found poetry 2: from an e-mail from Daniel on Proust

"'... and I followed him to a cafe
where we ordered some beer.
I felt M. de Charlus's eyes
anxiously absorbed in some plan.
Suddenly he called for paper and ink, and
began to write at an astonishing speed.'

The only thing cooler than
the fact that you could call
for paper and ink at a cafe
is the fact that everyone understands
he wouldn't call for a pen.

I like this world
where everyone has their own pens,
and paper and ink are publicly available.
It's like having a personal keyboard
in a world with free wireless,
only without the gratuitous electromagnetic radiation.
Ooh. Or a world where chicken fingers
are served everywhere, with free dip,
but you bring your own fingers,
because the idea of borrowing
someone else's fingers is absurd."