Triangle Dings
Those Lame Poems You Hear at Shitty Cafés
My mouth is dry but I try licking my lips anyways
My heartbeat is pounding so hard I can feel it in my temples
I'm sitting on the curb in the pouring rain
It's a good thing my jacket is waterproof.
The hula girl on my dash swings her hips violently
Flying through the woods in my sandals
The branches breaking off the roof
It's not all terrain.
Some sort of utensil will slice through my heart
I don't want, need, or care for love yet I am desperate for it
A cool towel on my forehead will never calm me down
Doing everything for everyone won't amount to anything in the end
They won't stop giving me guidelines which to live my life
I don't listen to their rules it's all crazy talk
I'm alone but that's okay
That's okay.
My head is throbbing and I can't stop blinking
My fingers are covered in chalk from another day but it won't wash off
Not even polka dots will cover my scars
About the Creator
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Was I a Model in Japan?
During my time in Nagoya I worked and lived at the strangely famous hostel and café Nagonoya. With its chequered floors and florescent lighting it felt quite dated, but I think that was supposed to be part of the charm. The dorms were always fully booked on weekends with domestic tourists and there was always a buzz in the downstairs café. Camera crews were constantly in and out of the place interviewing the Japanese staff members who worked the café. I think it had something to do with the egg sandwiches. At least that was what was on most of the merchandise, except for that one dishcloth with the owner’s face on it. Was I being employed by a local celebrity?
By Susanna Kiernan6 days ago in Wander
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