Shade-dappled, mocha steaming, slightly hidden
In a café alleyway, the smoke from my Ruination
Gliding – the only cloud on this blazing day –
As the street passes by, left to right.
Temporary sanctuary, granted by the owner’s wink
And the mention of increased fines, has cost me:
1 large tip
1 promise to stop, if asked
The book lies unopened, the cell
Set to vibrate, hospital rooms
And bills and ex-wives
And dead end jobs and regrets
And nostalgia and angst
Lost to the low croon of leaf
On leaf and long legs
Delicately perched on very
I will eventually stand up,
Take one last sip, scatter the ashes,
Leave this outlaw life, enter
Stage left and deliver.
But, right now, the wind is soft,
The world is slow, and this stickIs just getting interesting.