Perhaps more exists

Perhaps more exists

Than I know

Or can see

Over the lip

Of a coffee cup

Listening to tall tales

Gossip at a gallop

There is recognition

In exchange.

Under the table

Dancing

Footloose,

Pass the gravy

In the boat

I am transported

Across the Styx

Shuddering in anticipation

Of a breakthrough

To a life beyond

Imagining.

In the corner

An old man

Whispers into a dictaphone

Older than Jesus,

Perhaps he is a writer

Everybody seems to be

These days.

What will he make of me

Hunched over

The table

Holding a mug in two hands

Barely awake.

Another day

Of reckless indifference

Walking stone pavements

In the footsteps of Sisyphus

Doing it all again tomorrow

Keeping ahead of goodbye

Getting in front of yesterday.

Breaking fast

At lunchtime

Is a good start

Give me a bacon sandwich

If only.

(Heed me,

Said the doctor)

As I plough into

Bircher muesli with soft fruit

The food of kings

(You wish)

Constantly surprised

At my adaptability

But I will not forgo

The coffee or

The smell of bacon

In an all-day breakfast cafe