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Things That People in This Coffee Shop Don't Even Notice
The girl sitting at the table
across from me. She has a book
opened up in front of her.
She hasn’t turned a page
in about thirty minutes. She just keeps
looking at her phone then at the door
then back to her phone.
I wonder who is she waiting for.
The name of the man, who is by himself,
behind the counter. Running between
taking orders, making drinks and occasionally
having to clean up a spill.
His name is Jasper
by the way.
The upright piano on the small stage
in the corner of the room. It’s missing the
fourth white key from the left. If
I could remember any
of my music lessons, I’d be able to name it.
Nobody can see the fight
the couple in the corner is having,
including the man in said couple.
He’s been talking away on the phone
while she sit across from him,
tapping on the rim of her drink
and rolling her eyes
before staring out the window.
Writing this poem.
The girl who just walked out the door.
She stops for a moment and looks left,
then right. Her shoulders drops. Slowly
she turns and walks away,
hugging that book to her chest.