I JUDGE THEM (EIGHT)

1. ARRIVING

    they
    ride
    in  
white Audis / chariot high and money chunky
and
park
entitled and bold
in
the boutique street rain 
    following
    their 
home-county pointy noses
    to
    window
    tables
    and
    skinny lattes


2. ENTRANCE
   
    some
    have
long horse faces / over-bred and dental
    some
    have
large features of jogging bottom builders
from grandma's
tradesmans flings
    they
    all
    hang
    up
    wax jackets / keep flimsy shawls on
hiding
bulbous
adams
apples
bobbing with common people nerves


3. BFAST     

    they
    order 
high piles of mushrooms with their pinkys out
and
english breakfasts for novelty
that
they
eat
from
deep
bowls
    not
    looking
    the
    waitresses in servant black
    in 
    their
    european
    eyes

their 
    faded 
        brush of tan is a worry
need
another
easy winter jaunt 
    for 
    a
    ski-sun
    top-up


4. JUDGE

    i
    decide theyre trivial
    
    first-against-the-wall
    
    part-of-the-prob 

trust fund monkeys
not
at
work
on
a
weekday 10 AM
    loud
    blouses
    tucked into
    dress jeans 
that 
  would 
    never 
      survive
        a 
          rodeo 

car keys and iphones on the table
they
talk
and
eat
like
no one is starving - and HIM
    the
    ONE
    him
    some one brought along like a pet
    fails
    in
    an
attempt to edgily wear all black 


5. BACKLASH

    but 
    too 
    i 
    wonder 
    how their shopping and pony minds 
might judge me

        they  
        are 
        staring


6. ME

my walking boots are pitted with cat scratches
  and
  my
  jeans
  dont fit too well
    my struggle-mind 
    is 
    playing three Queen songs
      thru
      a
      calm marsh mist
        and
        eight
        half-written poems battle for birth

  i
    try
      to catch
        them - tapping them 
        into 
      my 
    phone - a panicked row of awful typos 
and 
wrong 
unhelpful
suggestions

          it 
          looks 
          like
          texting 
          to 
          them

my
face
is
deep
in
a
coffee mug - ive not taken off my hat
  and
    the
      shadows
        under
          my
            eyes
              are
                deep
                  as
                    dusk

 

7. MIRROR
 
NONE
of
us
are
working - weekday morning 10 AM
i know MY reasons 

i am doing ART / getting out / getting air

and - who knows ? 

they 
could 
be 
setting 
up 
a 
charity 

and

NOT talking holidays / ma and pa money / penthouse clubnights

at
all
    


8. ACTION NO ACTION    

    should i go over there ?

    introduce myself ?

    discuss year zero and scorched earth ?

explain
how
i
find
judging
a
revelatory mirror ?

    i judge
    they judge 

across diner spaces

(i see them looking / going quiet / whispering)

    no

    my omelet has arrived
    on
    a
    flat
    and
    normal
    plate

i eat it / it looks like a slice of edible moon
and
i
watch
the
rain outside
that 
falls
on
everyone

 

from zeroto60times.com