Once Upon a Downtown Thursday Cafe
|Once upon a downtown Thursday
cafe filled with beats
I saw you stir the steaming
with magic gesture hands.
||A second's echo cleared the room
as your spoon chimed on the cup.
A sparkle on the silver caught
my coffee wearied glance.
||And as your lips were sipping tea
and eyes were raised above the scent,
the steam would claim your mystery
and hold you in a trance.
Trickle down the Cigarette Machine
Trickle down the cigarette machine,
coins in the hand of a pretty waitress.
Stockings form moons and stars on her calves
beneath a black skirt and a clean white shirt.
Her hair is all ragged like granny's favourite
all black and brushed to one side to silhouette
with features as pretty as her delicate palm.
Thick lashes around her bright round eyes.
Thin lipstick around her smiling white teeth.
Skin white and around her soft bone cheeks.
|Pace of a Waitress
a little ditty from a shitty poet, to cheap to tip.
the pace of a waitress clearing up a table
flip, tap. flip, tap. placed upon a cork top
sugar, salt & pepper, shuffled and assembled.
she does a dance of ashtrays dropped. tingle
and stay put.
plop here (prance prace), drop there (prance
what shoes plop softly on the rug floor
what metal chimes fall from her waist or wrist
what does a pretty waitress find beneath a teapot
Then passed the suede pimp
brass chains and silver
earrings for the look on his face
and leaving like a lover
Then came the gypsy girls
black lace and sneakers
with hair that hangs like ornaments
to hide their curious glances
these poem are all by