chick magnet

sometimes they just won’t leave him alone
he has commandeered a table by himself
coffee           a novel           half an hour of peace
but she has come uninvited
ignoring other available options
to sit at his table
very close
an intruder into private space

he is now concentrating hard on the novel
working at ignoring her
but it is difficult
every inward breath is an aural extravaganza
every exhalation is accompanied
by a sterterous moan
soft but audible

she leans towards him and she is a talker
a fidget
forever moving in the corner of his vision

she speaks something at him
he doesn’t respond beyond gripping the book
tighter
a serviette is manhandled into shape
the sound of her nose being blown
like a fanfare of trumpets at the gates of heaven
is startlingly loud
he jumps
and breathy moaning is now accompanied
by the vigorous snorts and snuffles
of a moist process of adjustment

THAT MUST BE A GOOD BOOK

he has to look at her
a large-breasted cardigan-ed septuagenarian
all gappy smile and innocent curiosity

yes it’s a good book

there are some days when you couldn’t beat them off
if you had a large stick

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© Frank Prem, 2002