Saturday, July 29, 2017

Kristen de Kline #119 The restaurant

The restaurant
I walk past
and look in the window
they're sitting at a table by the fireplace   drinking
eating   talking
there are at least three wine bottles on the table
a carafe of water and I think I can see a Corona wedged with a lime
it looks warm in there
I'm not the only one outside
the winds are crazy today
the world is closing in around me
black shelves blow out of the bookcase
harpooned on the trailer
Ikea shelves fly over the Princes Highway
the fridge topples and dents
engraving a scratch across the white surface
everything you move     it's kind of fitting     every breath
you take     wheezy,   battered and   bruised     a little
the winds are crazy today
energy cans blow down our driveway, a stray
tree branch rests on the letterbox
the restaurant
they're still there   drinking
talking   eating
I walk past
and look in the window
it starts to rain again
the winds get even crazier
the world     closes in
tightly this time
I sit in the dark
look out at the skies
don't turn on the lights
always     amethyst
I listen to the wind     blowing




16 comments:

  1. One of my birthstones, so I've got a slight vested interest - had a few, lost a few, looked for a few, maybe you know how it goes, dear Kristen :)

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    1. Your birthstone - wow! Yes easy to lose & not always easy to relocate. It's an interesting shade - that's why I always use it for the skies (& it references a song by Hole which has amethyst skies too)

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  2. The skies ... always amethyst. But perhaps the skies are almost an amethyst shade as well. Ah well, either way the winds of change are blowing crazily!

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  3. ...and I think your poem is awesome. So many images in film, TV, words, music - the outsider who's really inside looking at the insiders who are really out. Jesus, I remember in my late teens (not pranking, I really was street-time fucking down and out), I went through a phase of just standing outside the better restaurants at the window looking at the diners for as long as it took them to complain to management. Wasn't anger, I know that, I think I just wanted acknowledgment, eye-contact, a smile. Maybe a feed? Ha. No. The thought never occurred to them. Neither does it now. Bloody gap getting wider. I'll shut up now! Promise! :)

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  4. Ah Rob I LOVE that story of you standing outside staring toll management we're called! That's wild! I also spent a lot of time as a teenager looking in at warm domestic scenes in houses as my friends & I roamed the streets at night. Definitely fodder for more poetry!

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