Acts of Mind Poem by Catherine Barnett

Acts of Mind



What's funny about this place
is us regulars coming in with our different
accoutrements, mine usually the little void
of space I call honey, days
I can barely get through I'm laughing so hard,
see? In the back a woman squeezes oranges,
someone presses the fresh white bread
into communion wafers or party favors.
In the window the chickens rotate blissfully,
questioning nothing-
Sometimes I flirt with the cashier, just improvising,
the way birds land all in a hurry on the streetlamp across the street,
which stays warm even on cold nights.
Guillaume says humor is sadness
and he's awfully pretty.
What do they put in this coffee? Men?
No wonder I get a little high. Remember
when we didn't have sex on the ferris wheel,
oh that was a blast,
high, high above the Tuileries!

Thursday, April 30, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: solitude
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kelly Kurt 30 April 2015

Wonderful Poem, Catherine. Thanks for sharing

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
1 / 14
Catherine Barnett

Catherine Barnett

United States
Close
Error Success