GEOFF INSIDE THE ATOMS OF THE MORNING

the dr was no help and the pain was only pain.
its commuter o clock.  
school run time approaching.  
theres no cabs on the thin land.
i limp to a cafe thats only five times further than i thought.  
the traffic is an insane whirl.
my hips only half on fire.
in the cafe i ask for coffee and sit down inside the morning, its radio chatter, extractor fan hum.
its like great boats are sliding by high above.
so in comes geoff.  
i havent seen him for 20 years.  
im guessing here.
it was back in the mall.  
back in the stores.  
we sold white goods, luggage, flat pack bookcases, stereos.
he worked mornings for no pay for an outreach program.  
i thought of him as a forever child.
other thought him a strange duckling.
i would lose half the morning saying no geoff, not there geoff, over here geoff, geoff GEOFF and he would laugh and tickle all the girls.
well now he sits two tables down and one over.  
hes clapping like a seal.
he looks the same.  
he dresses the same.  
shiny elbows new trainers.
he laughs like a child.  
he slaps the waitress on her bare arm in play.
he gets tea sausage beans.  
has a crisp new tenner.  
its the only thing in his wallet.
wondering what would happen if i said hello, i dont.
i tug my hat lower and sit still inside the morning and its similar atoms.
i feel needles radiating out from my palms.
the shine and colour and large windows of the cafe are like a fish tank.
geoff claps like a seal.  
his feet bounce up and down.  
he finishes his breakfast.  
slaps arms.  
uses his tenner.
carefully his change goes inside a zipped compartment.  
he leaves laughing.  
if he was dressed differently and i didnt know better i would think him a morning drunk.
over the street he opens the door to the pdsa charity shop.
i feel the drone of heavy ships high above. 
needles radiate out my palms.
20 years and geoff is still geoff.
i wonder if theres comfort there or not.
i pay.  
i leave.
going to the cab place i look in the pdsa.
geoff is behind the till with an unhappy woman.  
he puts his mug of brew down and claps like a seal.
i get a cab easier now.
home.  
no drone.  
no boats.  
not a fish tank.
inside the atoms of the morning.

from fishtankmaintenance.net