PARSLEY BETWEEN MY TEETH

 
 

Across from the 'Ecucina street Café' 
sits the Travel and Foreign Exchange 
with Stamp and Model Cars and the 
City International Duty Free close by 
Stands a Holiday Inn elite and erect. 

Standing beside parked motor cycles 
a man on a mobile phone talks endlessly 
Then I notice passers-by with mobiles  
on their hips, in hands and up to moving lips. 
Hearing American accents and I think for an instant 
I am over 'there' again. But it's okay, I'm here 
with parsley between my teeth. 

The trans central 'Cat' sleeks on by 
with Japanese scrawling on it's side 
Hustle and bustle of a lunch hour city  
Not all notice me. Though some do 
as I sit here writing with parsley specks 
between my teeth. 

A glass carrying truck with two men 
parked across from me stare, behind 
dark glasses and I imagine they can see 
this damn parsley between my teeth. 

A wheel chair inhabitant patiently waits 
by the curb for…. what? I don't know. 
!!…  
She got into a taxi. 
Another passed me; he was pushed right on by. 
Me afraid to smile with this parsley 
between my teeth.  

Stray pigeons scavenge for single morsels dropped 
by eaters at this street side Café, where I'm at. 
I'm picking the parsley from between my teeth 
and it just won't budge. 
Pick, poke, and drag. 
No use, so I light another cigarette 
and contemplate this mundane human race. 
  

 © April 23 1999 By TeAnne

 
© 1999 TeAnne (All rights reserved)
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