Sipping Bitter Coffee
Sipping bitter coffee it’s the lunchtime rush,
The faded plastic table cloth bears morning scars.
A chess board for the bored, sale weary shoppers,
Salt is pawn to mustards king, game abandoned
To the rind rimmed plate.
A girl enters, loud in her pregnancy, with two
In a buggy, snot proud and hungry they squall.
Hair tight back, face worn by the dole.