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Ryan O'Leary
Poems
Feb 19
Death Cafe
They didn't even have Barry’s Tea
the coffee was Robusta Decaffeinated.
Hard seats without cushions, no view
and not allowed to tip the waitress.
It was as cold as a dogs nose,
we were stiff, as with rheumatism
of nights inactivity and the atmosphere
was a stratosphere of liquid silence.
Written by
Ryan O'Leary
Mallow.
(Mallow.)
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