Poetry/Short Fiction

The Crashing of Shields & Teaspoons

Normally, I give context to the piece. This time, I'll let the poem speak for itself.

The Crashing of Shields & Teaspoons

The man did all the normal things.

A procession of tapas left idle on hooded napkins

beside him, here and there.

But in his anxious mind –

holding the woman’s words in the cup of his ear

watching the football, ordering a tea

was like going into battle.

One down, both tea and challenge.

A tip and a smile, one article well read

war council meetings across insecure fires

at the border of his mind.

A waiter trips

boom goes the sound of the –

crashing of shields and teaspoons.

By the cigarette machine

Marcus Aurelius is ironically cheering waheeeyyyy.

And remember…

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Thanks for reading.

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