shay's Waits

 

 

it’s

coming down now,

hail white pellets failing

down the awning flow,

 

both drips and stones

bouncing

                off

                      red round s(dr)unken

patio tables the breeze dances the branches,

while the patrons off the 86 to the square scOOt in

to huddle by the heater,

belly to the bar

with

beer

        + coffee drink the loud

twins (disturbingly close, of brothers kissing) at the stOOls on the wooden end

by the register

                       keeps

me from clear thought

placed only in their pauses,

 

and at 6:00pm

 

                       more

                        (bOOted blondes and scarved intellects)

                                 come in

  

to miss

 

             the (d)rain.