Box of straw

It is a noise you cannot help making
Gulping
You put the cup of hot tea to your mouth
And with blind pleasure
You start gulping

I scroll through the TV programs menu
1-801, BBC 1- CCXTV
It’s a Saturday morning
There’s no comedy series
There’s news, news, news, news, news

The cat puts on a performance each and every morning
She is pushy, she makes me feed her
– It starts with mewling
Running across the top of the furniture into the kitchen
Then back out again
She sits and stares at me until I remember
She’ll follow me into the kitchen

I look at my box of straw
Nothing has happened
My box of straw is so real
It’s the realest thing
Why do I keep it?
What am I keeping it for?
It’s a second reality
The way I look at it and wish for something
Or I want something

Inside my flat everything is mine
Everything is my choice
Every colour every shape is my choice
It’s a home of shapes and colours

Outside is growth and replacement
Different ticking hearts
In different breathing animals
People in different weathers
Different nights and different mornings

There is also the black hand gang
They are territorial
They are destructive
They love how destruction levels everything down

We went to the Italian restaurant
It was the same as before
We sat down
The same as before
My friend who is more narcistic than I am
Ordered
The same as before
The same fit and order of behaviour

I saw a shiny five pence piece on the ground
The waitress came out to clear up the table
I said to her
“Would you like to be rich?”
She looked at me surprised
I said that there’s a five pence piece on the ground and pointed at it
My friend said that I was cruel as the waitress turned and looked
It’s just a joke I replied
The waitress picked it up and left
Saying that it was her lucky penny

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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