The Little Restaurant – A Poetry Story

resturant

The Little Restaurant

Cold and snowing

Cozy, warm and romantic inside The Little Restaurant

Holding hands and enjoying time with

my Scorpion

Out of the corner of my eye I see

the Mexican and the Dilettante

hunched in a corner

speaking a melody of chaotic Spanish

The Mexican’s right ear is small and squashed flat

against his head

The other large and protruding

His eyes are cunning and crafty

His teeth – well what a pity

The Dilettante had beauty in youth

but now – not so much

Her hair is stringy and unkempt

Her eyes dull and vacant

Etched lines a maze around her mouth

She keeps a close eye on her silver spoon

dipping it in her sweet chocolate

and then her small mouth

The spoon – a metaphor of her life

it gives her wealth but no peace

She has a difficult life

and needs the little white pills to

take the edge off

Even now her head is nodding

Seems life is troubling her once again

I look at my Scorpion

Dark hair

Good features

A solidness you could lean into

warm reassurance

Tonight

he is restless

his foot beating a soft beat

to his deeply hidden emotions

The Scorpion isn’t listening

to me

and I have a lot to say

This is my biggest complaint

otherwise he is pretty great

I could tell he was aware of the Mexican and the Dilettante

A pair somehow in our life

I know why – and don’t like it

not one bit

I was tired of keeping the troubled hordes at bay

trying to preserve my bit of magic and romance

There was just too many people

in the world

with

issues

These two had the perfect key

too much for me

Problems, pain, suffering and God knows what more

I could – see

all the ingredients that make up a plagued life

Double trouble as they say

The Scorpion – you see

was a rescuer

The need to feel needed

was paramount to all else

even me

sad to say

I was losing and knew it

I just didn’t know

how much time I had left?

I glanced over at the corner

The Mexican and the Dilatant were

intently staring at the

Scorpion’s back

Webs of need emanating from them

The Scorpion turned around

and made eye contact

and then I know

my time was up

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