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Cafe Del Soul

By Marc Carver -- Contributing Poet -- [Email This Item]

I talk to the woman in the queue
At the bank
Then she gives me a hug
And just like that
She is gone.

The freight train rolls gently
through the station
The smell takes me back in time
Nearly forty years.
To my jps scaletrixis car.

I had to wait all day for the final piece.
I gave the taxi driver
a bunch of fives
for the 13 quid ride and jumped out
Then he stopped me
and told me
I had given him twenty
and gave me five back
I looked up at the sky
and saw four brushstrokes
and thought
what a lucky bastard I was.

A sky without punctuation

A finger print sits in the sky
A rock as well
A lavarous rock
with small semi circles.
Small islands
Sometimes slide by or stay where they are.
Then wind pushing against no clouds
Makes easy work
of the waving trees.

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