Poem

medium cappuccino on a hot hell day at Starbucks Hamburg in the shade of a big square umbrella the sound of chatter a fountain on the terrace two spitting stone seals wet conches punctuating old gods beveled onto the obelisk slate bowl of water beckoning pigeons come drink dunk a hot head after walking all forty six kilometers a weekend of legs dreaming of being wings to fly away from consuming litter on spoked street mall webs outside main central station or to be small enough publicly to be wet