STRANGE DUCKLINGS ( A PROCESS TRIPUPLET )

1.  I SAW -

i see 
the strange ducklings
from my stool
at
the
cafe
counter

they follow invisible trails
in the silent 10 AM

its a world of routine
mugs of tea all round

tin of broken biscuits
from the market stall

some blinkered browsing
in the library thrillers

and
god knows what
in
their
carrier
bags

walking in a line
like baby ducks
in 
  order 
    of 
      descending 
        social 
          ability

or so it looks to me

and
always home for the soaps


2. I THOUGHT -

thinking

h
m
m
m

with coffee / concentrating

a
a
a
h
!

and 

euuuurgh !  then . . .


3. I WROTE -

strange ducklings 
shuffle 
their 
baggage souls
in 
the 
pound shop crevices
of
the
pale jobless spaces

zipped up in anoraks 

bobbled trousers
pulled
too
high

out 
in 
the 
weekday daytime light
theyre cautious animals

all gone to ground
by
dusk

from quotesgram

MORE CAFE BLUES

  out for a bacon sarnie
in
the nowhere jobless hours
of 
a
blank cafe morning
  where
time is still finding its AM stride
in
the grey daylight stumble 
  of
  white noise
left over
from
night and dreams 
that rings in my ears 
  like
  the church bells
of the godless faithful

  workmen in stained joggers
place long take-out orders
and
a
clot of fishwives bark clipped sentences
about implants with implied judgement
  their
  miserable faces pecking at paninis 
like small troubled birds

  i
  half
  recognise them
  from
some job
i had
somewhere

from favim.com