Coffee Shop

I often used to sleepwalk to Rimskis café

for some post-insomnia self-medication

comprised of several hits of caffeine

and a lengthy ‘people watching’ session.


I used to sit outside on fine days

slurping at the froth of my cappuccino


smoking cigarettes

staring at the town clock

watching the time pass.


It’s from here I noticed

how many people routinely go about their days

looking utterly miserable.


On rainy days

my coffee froth moustache

would sit atop my lip

as I slouched in my window seat.


Sometimes, people I knew

would turn up and join me.


There’d often be a row of us

up against that window

staring out at a world

that none of us would ever fit into


-though we tried

even if it took

four or five coffees

to consider facing it.



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