My sons sit in
the faux leather chairs
next to the faux fireplace.
It is switched off
for the summer
that is coming.
The boys are switched on
for much the same reason.
I am watching them with lazy eyes.
(halfway)
The homeless man is here too.
He sits in the chair opposite
my youngest.
They are exchanging introductions.
No one is nervous.
(I am too near for that.)
__
When I am alone,
the homeless man
will ask me to buy him
a cup.
I usually do.
The 1st time this happened,
he pulled a fast-one.
This tattered man
asked for a triple-shot
espresso
with steamed milk,
setting me back
5 dollars.
Now, I’m the one who orders.
(A small, dark-roast,
with plenty of sugar
and milk.)
Last time,
he chuckled to himself
and happily vibrated
down the path.
Today, he is well-met,
but,
remains
decaffeinated.
***
-JBClaywell
© P&ZPublications
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
My sons sit in
the faux leather chairs
next to the faux fireplace.
It is switched off
for the summer
that is coming.
The boys are switched on
for much the same reason.
I am watching them with lazy eyes.
(halfway)
The homeless man is here too.
He sits in the chair opposite
my youngest.
They are exchanging introductions.
No one is nervous.
(I am too near for that.)
__
When I am alone,
the homeless man
will ask me to buy him
a cup.
I usually do.
The 1st time this happened,
he pulled a fast-one.
This tattered man
asked for a triple-shot
espresso
with steamed milk,
setting me back
5 dollars.
Now, I’m the one who orders.
(A small, dark-roast,
with plenty of sugar
and milk.)
Last time,
he chuckled to himself
and happily vibrated
down the path.
Today, he is well-met,
but,
remains
decaffeinated.
***
-JBClaywell
© P&ZPublications
Request permission to use this poem