coffee at pig bones

Jason

Watched Howl last night, which inspired me to write a poem this morning instead of the usual political rant. Thought I'd share it here for the hell of it.

"Coffee at Pig Bones"

Sitting at Pig Bones
alone, in the brisk, winter afternoon.
Coffee to my right,
Dostoyevsky lurking around somewhere in my bag
resting comfortably in the other chair.
Stabby makes an occasional appearance from the back,
chatting up the customers
and intimidating them
with her tattoos and handsome features.
Short, black hair
matching her black, button-up shirt.
Less goth and more post-punk culinary, if you can imagine that.
Thoughts turn to daggers
like the tattoos on her arm,
piercing through the melancholy of the moment
and into the unknown future.
Hope and fear, love and loss;
life is such a holy and tragic thing.
Souls forming and taking shape,
like Fiddler Crab larvae
carried upon the currents of choices,
mistakes,
and circumstances beyond their control.
Washed far out to sea
to sink or swim,
or be eaten;
the lucky ones being washed back into shore.
Sometimes I feel like a leaf
caught in the wake
of souls bigger and more important than I.
I rise and fall
and am pushed aside by their passing.
Always in a hurry
with no place to go.
But at least they'll get there on time.

federica

Actually, I believe it's prose.
And as such, more beautiful for it.
I prefer prose to poetry most times.

This is very good, Jason.

Jason

Actually, I believe it's prose.
And as such, more beautiful for it.
I prefer prose to poetry most times.

This is very good, Jason.

Well, it still technically reads like poem, and thus can be considered as such, albeit one that's written in prose rather than verse. (Two can play the 'being pedantic' game. )

And thank you, by the way.

LittleMighty

My favorite part of this is the last 3 lines. :)great piece of work! Thanks for sharing.

federica

Well, it still technically reads like poem, and thus can be considered as such, albeit one that's written in prose rather than verse. (Two can play the 'being pedantic' game. )

And thank you, by the way.

Hush my goddam mouth, I didn't mean to be a pedant.... having been raised by one who could have been the absolute model for Prof. Henry Higgins, that's a habit I might need to get out of....
Call it what you will, it's a great piece of writing.

Jason

Well, it still technically reads like poem, and thus can be considered as such, albeit one that's written in prose rather than verse. (Two can play the 'being pedantic' game. )

And thank you, by the way.

Hush my goddam mouth, I didn't mean to be a pedant.... having been raised by one who could have been the absolute model for Prof. Henry Higgins, that's a habit I might need to get out of....
Call it what you will, it's a great piece of writing.

No, no, it's quite alright. I'm a pedant myself most of the time, and I was just being playful. To be honest, I didn't even know the difference between poetry and prose until I just looked it up.