Coffee House Feedback by Marc Carver

I look at the girl’s reflection in the sheet glass window.
Another woman looks at me.
I see her
but still she looks, I am not that different am I?
The woman shouts some exotic coffee to go but it doesn’t matter because everything is in a ‘to go’ cup today.
The Anglo Indian man told me the dishwasher was broken I asked him if it was him, he looked sheepish.
I can’t decide whether to tell the girl who made me my coffee that it was good
because she told me she didn’t get much feedback.
The woman who looked at me before looked at me again as she walked down the road.

It is quiet now but still I don’t want to go but I know I must and I know I have to tell her how good that coffee was.
As I tell her an old boy says
“Horrible the coffee in here is horrible.”
“Mine was alright.” I tell him.
As I walk out he walks out with me with his coffee.
He has spilt something on his jacket but not recently
“Horrible.” He says.
“Well it will sober you up.” I say
“It will be Christmas soon.” He says.
It is January.

I have had ten collections of poetry published and over two thousand poems posted on the web but the main thing that gives me pleasure is that i am able to write in a way in which i want to and now and again i get an email from someone i don’t know saying they like my work.



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