WellsCirclesOfChaos

Circles of Chaos by: Julie Wells, Acrylic on canvas, 2014.

Sitting Solitary in Starbucks

by: Allison Kennedy

Business men hunch; computer peckers, them, not me,
A display of evolution, the genes permutate
accompanied by the smell of burned coffee.

Behind, a can of tuna is opened. Ew, how can that be?!
Through the atmosphere it permeates.
The college student munches; smelly eater, him, not me.

Several languages are spoken over tea.
The indistinct murmur surprisingly resonates
over the smell of burned coffee.

Two graying, pot-bellied men chat casually
of their pasts and of their fates.
A chance meeting at brunch; nostalgic speakers, them, not me.

A sample platter is passed around for free
She offers, but I negate,
over the smell of burned coffee.

Sun sets as the light travels down my thigh to knee.
Several patrons come in with their mates.
Happy couples flirt; sacrificially satisfied, them, not me.
Inhaling the smell of burned coffee.

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