Lipstick
on a coffee cup
an ashtray
of half smoked cigarettes
twisted
in an agony
of being wanted
& not wanted
put out
angrily
a tissue streaked
with mascara‘d tears
a doodle
(meaning nothing)
on a napkin
a forgotten
half finished book
ash
floating
upon the scum
of coffee spilt
from the knocked
over coffee cup
a half dissolved
brown sugar cube
a little cache
of matches
advertising a Japanese
restaurant
the table
to be cleared up
by a young yawning
waitress
unaware that the couple
at table No.2
have just
broken up.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/table-no-2/
