|
|
Colette
By Paul Cameron Brown
The waitress mainlines
the cup under the saucer
balancing it on the
waistband of her arm
much as a junkie
might tie a tourniquet.
Wiping the glass edge
of the table
clear of croissant crumbs
& watching the barely dry
reflection of her own
image going thru the emotions.
the California chic
pothouse & gardenia
bloom effect of
her work is enough
to leave a dirty smear.
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 151 times.
|
|