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Keep This Stub

This street, 
shrine, 
concrete bench, 
sewage pumping station, 
Stewart's. 
Events come, 
like drawing slips of paper
from an abandoned raffle. 
No one wanted the prize yet, 
how interesting to know who 
puts their names in; 
It was for a good cause,
you know. 
How interesting to find names
in foot prints in the snow. 
I forgot I bought those raffle tickets. 
How odd to find them here. 
How odd to share this prize: 
January. 


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Posted by nah

LEONA’S GOOD GHOST CAFÉ


The management is patchwork, casual
they switch shifts with each other
and sit on flipped baskets
every day there is:
one soup one bread one sweet
in zig zag script
generous vegetables
hot + cold + salty + bitter
warm kettles
huddles that shrink and expand
with the weather
everything is clean with vinegar
(or if there’s dust it’s wood + paper)
and Jasmine in the weedy courtyard
and stray cats eating scraps
and children piling pebbles
and pink chairs
and yellow tables
and an open book
of notes

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