Naked Lunch With an Inferiority Complex

I sit
Fingers laced around a café au lait
Speaking deep blue thoughts to an unlistening crowd
Philosophy
Religion
Sexuality
Sensuality
Government
My eyes are wide
Red-rimmed
Blood-shot
Words are slurred
I need sleep
Caffiene suffices
Perhaps an ephedrine or two
Will enlighten me to the thought processes
Of my fellow amerikans
After the room stops spinning (tales)
Waxing poetic
Yawning profound intelligence
My cigarette smoke mixes 
With the steam from my café au lait
But it's all hot air
In the end