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Jerrybaldy
02-22-2014, 07:39 PM
Industrial urns pour steam into teacups.
Bacon fries on hotplates.
Middle aged women force smiles
From the depths of their
Yolk stained pinnies.
Ready for bed boy sucks the dredges
Of a strawberry milkshake.
Onions caramelise in a hot sweet smog
Beside the fruit cake
Proudly displaying its currants, glass cased.

I draw stars in spilt salt
Watching the woman
Who will not stop stirring her coffee.
She stirs and she watches.
She stirs and watches.
I watch her as she stirs.
Large fries to table five.
All day breakfast to the cardiac arrest by the juke box.
She stirs.
And she watches.

She dives in as I leave
Drowning, not waving
in a moccachino swirl.

Buh4Bee
02-23-2014, 02:50 PM
I like the repetition of the lines in which you describe the woman stirring. Great atmosphere created in this depressing scene.

Jerrybaldy
02-28-2014, 04:51 PM
Thank you Buh. Glad you picked up on the atmosphere :)

Buh4Bee
02-28-2014, 05:21 PM
The atmosphere was pretty blatant, but I am not sure why you edited out the part where the N falls in love with the woman stirring?

Haunted
02-28-2014, 08:46 PM
The obsessive compulsiveness of the stirring is really compelling. I would like to see what you edited out too.

Jerrybaldy
03-01-2014, 06:49 PM
It felt too cliche..

Haunted
03-03-2014, 12:07 AM
I felt that way about all the crap that I've written….