Taking Notes….

I’m in the cafe, again

taking notes

Its Thursday, for some payday

mid-afternoon the cafe is busy

the man in the hand painted

shirt

marbles his words

then spits them out

like red hot coals

each one fused

then a shout, to emphasize

meaning

language is an interesting

conduit

particularly the use of tone

that torture inside a mouth

words masticated

then spat out….

no joy or shape

then the painted shirt leaves

his words no longer screaming

at least the rain has eased

the sky a softer shade

still time for another cappuccino….

 

Thatcher Doran

 

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About pmisteil

Hi, my name is Paul though I write under other names like, Thatcher and Paolo, I love literature, art and architecture their passion and drama....the contradictions. The notion of Truth-who is the person behind the mask? Or does it matter! I like long walks and longer conversations over cappuccinos in a cafe with atmosphere and the rest is a journey!
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