Sunday, April 13, 2014

Poem: Custodian


Six-thirty imitates an elephant.
Nine-fifteen signals safe.
At eleven oh five the clock has given up.

He sits at his personal diner,
wondering how long it takes to
ferment french fries into vodka.

Strong possibility that he has
waited too long but his
pride sticks like pinetar.

The music loops back around,
Misty for the umpteenth.

He pulls up the text C U @ 7 :-),
enthralling colon dash parenthesis.

The waitress gave up
after his fourth coffee.

She’s back offering a
colon dash bracket.

I’m sorry. We need to close.

He looks at his hands.

Can I help?

The bracket grows teeth.
She hands him a mop.

From the collection Fields of Satchmo 
Photo by MJV

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