3 o’clock

3 o'clock
empty cafe
just me staring at a guy
staring into space

his thoughts crackle
into the summer air
nervous
hopeless
jobless
debts mounting
coffee going cold
no cash for a bun

while pastries shine
behind the glass
beckoning

I think of Jean Valjean
and his stolen loaf

and hope floats in
on a stray sunbeam

maybe just maybe
this man will meet
his Bishop

~~~

(written for the Bentlily prompt - go to a cafe and write about a person there)

The sure-fire life purpose

If I had the chance
I’d be a dessert spoon
the bringer of delight

Imagine,
tucking into delectation
every time

brain to hand
sending frantic messages
hurry hurry hurry

mouth closing in
tongue in rapture
lips in melting caress

imagine,
transporting pleasure
every time

how could you go wrong
with a life purpose
such as that?

(written for the Bentlily prompt - write a poem about an appliance you love or love to be)