Sunday, October 08, 2006

the older gentlemen at Café Wacker

One ate a mound of gelatinous cake.
Another did the crossword, his voice cigarilloed
like a suffocating trombone.
One sold roses to no one.
They had creases in their trousers and good jackets.
Two at the next table talked about Bremen, leeks
and an herb similar to chives, but which is not chives.
They disagreed about who should pay
for the cake and cappucino,
and it seemed civilization might squeak
into the afternoon
without ripping.

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