I have seen through

I have seen through

The cloak they wear

Hunched up

Against the wall

Nursing a cold cup

Fearing their shadow

As it falls

Hoping to leave

In peace

Wincing at

The noise of tables

The sound of voices raised

Tall poppies

That need to be cut off

At the head

If only thoughts

Were pictures

Old ladies with pinky fingers

Red-nosed gents

With comfortable stomachs

Money that would have

Been better spent

On something else

Jousting with friends

Scoring points

All joking aside

Misogyny thrives

On the big table

As a quiet rebellion

Gradually

Empties the cafe

Of its diversity

I wonder why

Nobody raises an objection

Sounds them out

I guess it is unseemly

To make a fuss

Over breakfast muffins

I fade into the background

Like an old Polaroid

Drink more quickly

Than I would like

And leave

I should have bought

A takeaway.