Wow, I just found this thread...
I've been looking to share some poetry again, in the hopes that it will inspire me to start writing again. I used to write a lot of poetry, but recently I've not been writing much of anything outside of papers for class, and when I do write it's been mainly children's stories. Not that that's bad, but I do wish I could get some poetic inspiration back.
So anyway, here's a poem. It's an old one. I wrote it when I was just finishing college, living with my folks in the 'burbs.
Hard Times Café
Minneapolis, MN
The door's open wide, letting rain in.
Plants frame the window, remind her of home.
She ducks inside.
The guy at the counter hands her a scrap of paper,
he tells her to write down what she wants.
‘Rigatoni, $3.49’.
"They’ll call you when it’s done," he says.
She goes to sit by the window, drawn
by a trapezoid of gray, rainy sunlight
on the raw dark dirty floor.
She finds a black-turtleneck clad
Someone already there,
sits at the counter instead.
It’s in the center of the café,
the focal point in a perspective drawing
and the stools are high,
higher than the other tables.
She is on display.
She may as well shout, "Hey!
I eat meat and real cheese
and live in the suburbs!â€
A man with a ripped shirt, pierced lip,
and dreadlocks looks blatantly at her
over his chipped mug of strong, organically-grown joe.
The waitress calls her name--they are out of rigatoni but
would she like vegan mac-and-cheese instead,
‘cause it costs the same?
She eats it for the experience
but it tastes brackish, metallic.
It’s stopped raining
so she puts on her scarf,
buttons her jacket,
takes her fork to the bin that says SILVERWEAR
and her plate to the only other bin,
which is labeled BROKEN DISHES.
Throwing her napkin away on the way out,
she passes the dreadlocked man,
who meets her eyes
and smiles.