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featherbrain or ‘the bar maids poem’

March 22, 2015 - whoneedslove -

tomato light bulbs in the window,

a string of red lights,

watched by two blue curtains

falling from the ceiling begging for attention.

a bear walks in. orders a beer.

bottles on the wall framed in brick stones,

red, yellow and white and the grey

slush outside surrounds the earth echoing.

echoes materialise, they pass and liquidate

under frozen rain – always, or they

enter the room – sometimes.

signs on tables

carved by sisters and brothers

spinning on black leather chairs.

in the bar, an old lamp

with holes in her shade,

light escaping going for a hike

on a path through the forest.

a bunny and a bird,

followed by a fox and flowers.

they die in their painting, they dry on the wall

and the man with the moustache remains

still talking about a chance not taken

while the barmaid polishes silver and gold

offering a beer to the green coat.

over so many planks he must have walked,

until the worn out shoes wouldn’t wear his feet no more.

but they brought him here, craving for tea and water,

waiting, waiting,

where’s the exit when there’s no way out?

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