30 Poems: Day 3


My poem today was written in one of the two positions in which I do my best work (the other one being such that it would make writing well-nigh impossible.). I was outside, in the sun, with a coffee in front of me, at my  favourite cafe. My usual was delivered with some special “latte art” on it: the staff’s nick-name for me, written on the top. This made me feel ridiculously special, as I scrounged through my notebook and found another fragment for up-cycling.

And, as you will see, my love of coffee has quite a bit to do with this poem!

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STREAM OF SEMI-CONSCIOUSNESS

Blue stilettos, click, click on the pavement

Echoing the tick-tock of the clock

Which spins round and round,

Like the old music-box,

With pretty pink satin,

And a ballerina, dressed

In a skirt just like my prom gown,

Which I wore the first time I heard

“White Room”. Oh the black curtains.

Those blacks at the back of the stage,

During the production of “Hamlet”

So stark and dreary,

Like my life at times.

Perhaps I should travel?

Tahiti looks nice…

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK…

I still can’t get to sleep….

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