Silent Thoughts

Would you mind if I kissed you

Caressed your face

May I watch you from here

Or there

Your perfection in my soul

May I hold your hand

And swing our arms in joy

Can I wrap my arms around you

Hold you protective to myself

Will you let me live with you

As one man and woman

May I love you

May I love you

Will you hold me close

Comfort me as my end draws near

Forever I will love

Forever I have loved you

In Queue at the Windsor

We are all nice people

Apparently respectable

Middle age wide paunch saggy bummed

Academics and professionals and government workers

With the token mix of derelict

Abandoned in this stairway

In this building

Where the homeless abode

Denizens of those not blessed by God

With the good sense to secure a living

Entertained briefly by the soon to be tossed

To bear witness to the bouncer

Aggressive firm and polite

False appal silent approval

Our eyes avert the dispute when the outside door shuts

The concert will start soon

A murmur: Stew is here

Who?

Stew!

Couldn’t help it… who is Stew to you?

Stew is from the radio station,

At the U

He loves this down under artist

And is the reason we know to come to see him

In this down under building

Adorned with these graffitical ads

Of the venerable northern educational facility

Pukatawagan University

Puk-U

And so goes the queue

Opening Statement to Trial

You are no longer relevant

So says the former lover

"I miss you" formed

Then instantly denied

A lie?

Or survival?

Or truth?

Your Honour.

Whose

All these loose pieces

Notations of what, weathered

Somehow fitting as one

Suddenly blown to the wind

River and Osborne SW

What happened?

You used to be so great

And then you committed a dereliction of duty

The first place to eat in the village

An icon at the gates

Plates of good Italian food

And fantastic pizzas

And cold beers from all over the earth

And open until 4:00 AM

A beaconed neon light

But then what

A spiral to depths

A bad spot so no repair here

A customer sees dereliction and does not return

So further decline

We invested in you

You did not invest in yourself

So we divested of you

And we wait

Knowing this, this is the corner

The gateway to the village

And we fret as the building decays, empty

And we hope for unique

And satisfying

Demanding evidence rumors of chains are all false

Cause this is our home

And we will support you

So long as you are part of the fabric

Or we will sink you.

We are fickle that way.

Self Reflection with Frosted Face

I am prone to robbery

So one part of this wit likes to think

No I have never participated in the felonious arts

But I am prone to it.

I cannot pass a bank without consideration

Of vaults, and cash drawers, and frightened customers

I think thoughts of a robbing hood

When I pass the cash stores, creators of victims

Fellow thieves who have legally participated in that I fear to try

And when I pass near a Seven-Eleven

Well

I fair itch

So here I sit in this bakery

Eating my baklava while wearing my balaclava

Staring past the facsimile idols of Greek gods

Past beyond the frosty panes to across the street

Planning a perfect crime

And I spring to action

Pulling down my balaclava

Zipping my parka

And taking the last of my baklava

I march with the confidence of the driven

Through the doors...

A cheery greeting in an Abu accent

"Welcome dear sir"

To the counter

"Dear sir, if I may

You have baklava on your balaclava"

Stupefied,

Mortified, I fled

Running into the frigid night

Breath weighing heavily upon my mask

Layers of hoar upon hoar

And stop 
To stare at the shop front reflection of this fool

A frosted flake of a man

Not a robber

A lover

Of backlava

River and Osborne SE

Rafe’s coffee is exceptional

He serves it hot and fresh

Every single day of the year

On those that are lonely

The holidays for the uninvited

I can always find friendship here.

These customers are predictable

Not the chic from across the way

The seniors come and run the sofa and chairs

Inviting us in to learn of their days

And their politics

Students live here

A constant cramming

Free connections and exceptional elixirs

Potions of sleep deprivations

To drive knowledge so they can become chic

Free newspapers contrast the self-supplied technologies

And books, bibles and dissertations

With a sprinkle of opinion and disagreement

Music joins, a familiar tune breaking through the atmosphere

Near the dish washer people dance

Not to tunes

But to nature as they wait their turn

For the key on the big stick

And all stop for a moment

As new come through the door

Push in, an opposite conciliation to street level entries

Do we know him or her

No matter

At Rafe’s place they are all friends

And the cheerful baristas welcome

In a warm embrace of coffee

And Gunn’s pastries

And the best of company