Coffee Shop Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Coffee shop

She sits like Persian cat
In James Bond.

Same her face, neck-blouse…
Wrinkled all…

Her nose is a spoon, tummy out
Handle up.

She eats, talks and removes
The cake’s dough with her tongue
Open mouthed…

Multi-tasked.

Whitish teeth are damaged
Showing age.

Reaches out for napkin
But it falls and flies
Shapes smoke, or the fog, or
Cloud at crest and the heights.

Later lands on ground.

Of no use
She uses her sandal to slide
The paper under arch
Of the leg, of table…

She is the high class…