A poem by NIKITA SINGH.
In the backside of the coffee shop
he sits in a mist of smoke
while the coffee worshippers
suck their coffee up through
those little slits in the cups and burn
their tongues
and choke.
And they wont eat anything
for the rest of the day because
their mouths feel like sand and
their blood is burning mocha
and Mr Bell sits in his circle of smoke
thinking
this is how they lose weight.
Sitting amongst their bloodshot faces,
it is difficult to relax.
It isn’t enough to sit –
you have to fit; drink through
a slit, in a paper cup,
or get up.
And what pressure is this!
Thinks Mr Bell.
Occasionally he will lift his
sleeves and feel the hairs
soft and fine.
And scratch down from the elbow
enjoying the slippery give
of the tendons underneath.
The chills he’d get,
and then forget, all the sipping, tripping,
staring faces. He’d go places.
Smiling in his cloud of smoke
he thinks,
what a selfish man I am.
All these caffeine eyes
are gazing at each other.
But not me!
I am just watching –
myself!
Mr Bell, you are by far
the most interesting man in
the world. Take my hand,
I understand. I know you
too well
Mr Bell.
Now he stands.
He takes a bow and says:
Thank you for your twitching
stares and sunken iodine smiles –
but I’ll be gone a while
to keep the silence company
in case it gets lonely without me.
So long, my latte lovers, spiced darlings, your attention has been
so delicious.
I’m afraid my drink has gone cold,
its rush hasn’t got a hold
on me.
And I’m fine.
So Mr Bell leaves, head high
scarf wrapped tight around his throat
and tosses away his paper cup.
Makes the trip
home:
where the circle of smoke is gone.
The quiet is gold; the emptiness full.
There is some comfort in not
knowing, what will become
of Mr Bell. His lack of coffee today
means he sleeps well.
This precious moment worries him.
He craves it, he
must save it.
So Mr Bell gets up and pours
the water. Adores the water.
Doesn’t sip it. Tips it.
And back in place
the rich scent of the coffee lovers
silenced in the heat of the covers
pulled over his face.
