States of Poetry Poems

at the patisserie the waitresses speak in French to each other while they slowly put in your coffee order. they do not seem rushed and their dialogue makes the experience seem authentic. I did not have cash and asked if they had a minimum on card. it was $10 and I had to add a chocolate truffle to my order to meet the price. I laughed to deflect attention from getting chocolate in the morning a ...

she used to walk out to the road at the end of town, put her arms and legs up to the sky and stretch out to reach all of the stars. the next summer it seemed like she would never have the chance to do it again, because of the locusts. everywhere in the town there were dead locusts covering the roads. locusts met their deaths on windscreens of cars and meshed inextricably into the grates of the ...

I am always on the edge of being careless. if I am leaving a table at a bar, for example, people always remind me to pick up my phone or my wallet as opposed to forgetting it. it is kind that people care to remind me. leaving the bus I didn't have enough time to do my checklist, which involves locating important items like my Opal card, wallet and phone. after I got off I knew I didn't have my ...

all of the businessmen are pleased to be outside on their lunchbreak. young men looking slightly awkward in suits reminds me of a past lover and I assume I will make this association for the rest of my life. I am always more ready than the men I meet. the clock in the arcade has the inscription above it 'time conquers all'. you could live by such a maxim, I daresay.