gkpoetry

Lousy coffee, lukewarm in Styrofoam,
Hopper’s light slanting down an outside wall,
Synapse-suppressed beneath fluorescent beams
Clientele stir and wait the manager’s call,
“Your car is ready, expensive? not too!”
Not savvy, they can only hope it’s true.

Across the floor she marches to and fro,
Clacking her heels, clickety clackety, just so.

Sitting in chairs, moonstruck men stare serene
At highlighted tresses, which knowingly bounce
Farrah-pretty, and easy fit-tight jeans.
Muzak doldrums mingled with glare-surround
Encase a greyed-out, beiged-out plastic scene.

Across the floor she marches to and fro,
Clacking her heels, clickety clackety, just so.

Mister Whitecollar’s stern demeanor trails
Along an aisle, freezing the air in his wake.
Crisp and white, his shirt billows as he sails
Back and forth, not pell-mell, yet what to make
Of duplicate jaunts to here, to near, to here,
While service techs explain the hacks and clacks
To elder ashen folks of yesteryear
Worried restless about their cadillacs.

And across the floor she marches to and fro
Clacking her heels, clickety clackety, just so.