HAIKUS IN LEELA’S CAFE

men lock eyes
across an empty chess board
full of promise

his hand almost
touches her leg beneath the table
his hand almost

swept in digital
eyes glazed with screen glare
cold french fries

center stage
botox lips filled with final exam
computer battery burns

blonde on blonde
cooperative hands on paper
creates something what though

big giant table
tiny woman sits choir class posture
only seen through reflection

two tables tucked in
mini diner inside of diner
heated debate on the platform
of bicycle tires

men at bars
like pigs in cages
suckle on the beer teat of denver

secretly beside me
behind a brick barrier
someone solves cancer and/or heartbreak

black leather chairs
flag pinned down in VIP section
laughter laughter laughter

newly rolled in
approach the bench
talk to leela
what’s yer poison
mother
fucker

dishes clang
from swinging metal doors
bruce banner slips through the cracks

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2016

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

2 thoughts on “HAIKUS IN LEELA’S CAFE”

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