Poem: Trains Coffee Women

​Trains Coffee Women

By M.C. St. John
QuailBellMagazine.com 

Cups of coffee exhaust me now.
Yawn at the thought of train rides
                                                                                    to Lakeview

 
                                                                                               
Gold Coast
 
 
                                                           
Pilsen
                                                                    Bridgeport
 
 
                                                                       
                                                                                                               Hyde Park
                                    for women who speak in tongues
                                    polish you like good silver
                                    for the curio cabinet   
                                                                                    (Ah, this long serving spoon here?
It was a steal from Lincoln Square
good make strong handle dirt cheap)
 
To feel
            her hips on knees
            her face between fingers
            her teeth under tongue
                        is a string of sin to you.
 
 
To know
                                      every sugar packet ripped
                                      every careful drop of cream
                                                is tallied and labeled as you.
 
 
To think
                                                             every stop on the blue red purple
                                                     orange green pink
                                                     brown yellow lines
           
     is another story      
                                                                                                  from another woman
                                                                                                                                     of you.
 
Coffee Trains Women
                        Women Coffee Trains
                                                  Trains Coffee Women…
                                                                                          I’m tired of it.
 
Sweet as Love
Hot as Hell
Black as Death—Please Turks, keep your proverb
 
                             I will French-press my bitter blend for bed alone
                             save for Sherwood and his grotesques
                             the rumble of the train as thunder
                                                                 from a receding storm
                                                                                                     I refuse to ride again.
 
My time is my time
my stories my stories  
                                                                                                            in my room
                                                                                                            for my nights.
      
                      Granted, the words are love letters cast into a void--
                                                                                                            but I will fill it
                                                                                                            (books cups dreams
                                                                                                            fears spoons notes
                                                                                                            sighs pens trash)         
                                                                                                            as I see fit.
 
This spoon here? Gouged with scars
            from wild meals that no soft cloth
                                    can erase and thank god
                                              for small miracles
                                                                                 No running away
                                                                                 with any dishes
                                                                                 any time soon
                                                                                   
                                                                                                            unless you count
                                                                                                            the coffee saucer
                                                                                                            on the writing desk.

#Unreal #Poem #ValentinesDay #Women #Coffee #Trains #Stories 

Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.