I sit in sad café’s
Slowly sip gin, sedate myself
Watch vacant whitewash walls
Raindrops drizzle through
The torn awning out front
Like lonely teardrops
I think of a girl I once knew
Identify with fingerprints in the hall
I scan the room for possibilities
That always seem to turn the other way
Long legged honeys, miles of tongue
And smiles that make my brain weep
All poured into a plastic cup
That rests on a table by a book
I’ll probably never read
People gather in small clusters
Drink their coffees, their mocha’s
And chat about their day
I sip from that plastic cup
Aching to forget about mine
There’s an empty seat across from me
Haunted by the ghosts of dead friends
I listen carefully for their voices
So distant now
And wonder if I ever really heard them at all