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BruisedOrangePoems
so i'm standing outside the coffee shop staring through the large plate glass windows. it's one of those intimate, quirky little places. pressed tin ceiling, art (originals) on the walls, pieces of furniture that look more like they belong in a bedroom than any public place.   maybe that's my problem. maybe it isn't impersonal enough.   because i can't seem to get my feet to move over the threshold. i'm just standing here on the street, staring through to the other side. on the other side sit the group of poets i am supposed to be joining.   they talk easily with each other, they share their works.   i'm wondering at this point, what sort of poets they are, they are smiling, laughing talking easily with each other.   these are definitely not my type of poets.   i'm wondering what kind of poetry these easy talkers have inside themselves.   what could they possibly have to say?   probably poems about flowers and butterflies and trees and stuff.   this is not the group for me. i turn and walk on down the street.   a ***** crumpled sheet of newspaper bounces along the sidewalk in front me.
0
Jan 11, 2012
Jan 11, 2012 at 3:27 PM UTC
exclusion, self imposed
so i'm standing outside the coffee shop staring through the large plate glass windows. it's one of those intimate, quirky little places. pressed tin ceiling, art (originals) on the walls, pieces of furniture that look more like they belong in a bedroom than any public place.   maybe that's my problem. maybe it isn't impersonal enough.   because i can't seem to get my feet to move over the threshold. i'm just standing here on the street, staring through to the other side. on the other side sit the group of poets i am supposed to be joining.   they talk easily with each other, they share their works.   i'm wondering at this point, what sort of poets they are, they are smiling, laughing talking easily with each other.   these are definitely not my type of poets.   i'm wondering what kind of poetry these easy talkers have inside themselves.   what could they possibly have to say?   probably poems about flowers and butterflies and trees and stuff.   this is not the group for me. i turn and walk on down the street.   a ***** crumpled sheet of newspaper bounces along the sidewalk in front me.
BruisedOrange
Written by
BruisedOrange
56/F/American
Jan 11, 2012
Jan 11, 2012 at 3:27 PM UTC
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