Posted by: Ron DuBour | May 29, 2015

Daily missive for Friday the 29th of May.~by Peter Forster



Daily missive for Friday the 29th of May.

Coffee shop diversions.

They lie with their eyes,
And in the tilt of the head,
The semi-disguised sigh,
The wash of contempt in the brief glance
As it slides over his face.
The curt nod as they turn away,
Shuffle coins from pocket to pocket,
Resume far ranging conversations
That rail against Bianca’s behaviour
At Tracy’s hen night,
Provoking her into having a fight
Over Chris, who looks really fit,
But is not somebody
You could ever rely on.

And with a nervous cough he sits down
Unarmed and alone,
In a battle zone.
Rocking back and forth
He can barely contain himself
And wrings his hands together
Tightly between his legs.
Holding on to his boundary
Until mum sat down and asked how he was.
And he replied in a crisp clear voice,
With no sign of agitation
Or affectation.
I am very well thank you.
The coffee in here is really good
Almost better than McDonalds
In the precinct,
Which has really improved now.
And that can only be a positive
…I found the game I wanted
The same value as a big mac.
Almost as good as a cheeseburger.

He slapped his thighs, averted his eyes.
Less comfortable in silence
The two girls barely paused,
In their turning away, the conversation blooming.

…A car full of black bags and dirty washing
…I never have time myself…
He said I go out too much
…I should stay in and not party
But I could spend my wages
Before I get home if I want to.
…He doesn’t like it
But as I said if he wants things
To be different he should get up off
His fat backside and get s job
Lazy fat slob…
But he is cute though…
Especially after a drink…
And we cuddle up on the sofa
Share a pizza…
Watch a film on the telly
He balances a pint on his belly
And how we laugh.
But he has nothing.
And my dad goes mental…literally.

The boy sits crossed legged,
And hums whilst biting his hand,
Filling the break
As his mum eats her Tea-cake,
He creates his own noise.
As a device, to screen out the
Clamour that goes on around him.
Are you alright?
I am fine honestly…I am loving it…
It really is nice here now…
Good coffee…and nice cake.
It was worth the visit…good value for money.

And the girls drone on.
…Well…I was brought up old school.
My dad doesn’t like him
He said I should never put up with it
But if you saw him…I said
Then you would realise
…I really said it.
…Yes I know what you mean
A surname means nothing
These days…

…But he is just worried about you.
I’m not being funny
But you know…whatever,
Me…I would marry him tomorrow,
Like a shot…
But you know what I’m like.
I have one dad and one dad only
And dad said
The lazy rag has a bad record.
Did you know he was eleven years with her
Before he left …and I said…
You know …what I’m like…
The more he shouts at me
The more I dig my heels in
And how we laugh…
Even when we fight.
…But I do want more
I’m too old for this…I said
And he went to me…
Is that what you want for the rest of your life?
And I said yes.
Mind you…It is a gamble.
I said to my mum
If things don’t work out it will not be for
The want of trying.

His mum got up to leave
And he stood to attention and clapped hands
Stamping his feet.
He was a man,
Dressed in children’s clothes.
With short trousers and a baseball cap,
Turned up at the front.
It was mum’s idea.

The girls barely gave a smile
The conversation fairly flowing,
As they shared a pitying look,
Poor thing,
It’s his mother I feel sorry for
Yes I know…
What sort of life is it…literally all your life
Spent looking after somebody else.
My god I couldn’t do it,
…Nor me…
No way…
Thank heaven all my kids are alright
Honestly I would die.
I would literally die…

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