Busted

A Beverage
Is the most important
Part of the Coffee Shop
Experience.
To the Unitiated,
The Worker Drone,
The Professional,
The White-collar hustler,
Or, occasionally,
The Nightowl, who is
Up way too early.

They acquire their cup
In exchange for a swipe
Of the card,
Or a scan
Of their phone, proceeding
Mindlessly to the next phase
Of the day.

Those select Initiates
To the Sublime Mysteries
Of the Coffee Shop know
That people-watching
Is so much more
Rewarding than mere coffee,
Even when
The gorgeous Redhead
In the tight summer dress
Busts the Initiate
Staring shamelessly
At today's Muse.

©2014 Edward J. Branley. All Rights Reserved.

The Red Fairy

The Red Fairy Is not as well-known
As her Green sister,
Who has been an object
Of curiosity,
Of affection, and,
Of desire,
For generations.

The Red Fairy
Is an awesome kisser,
Leaving many tastes
On the tongue:
Anise,
Hibiscus,
And Wormwood,
To remind you
She's more than a little sassy.

The Red Fairy
Is strong and potent.
It is not recommended that
You attempt to experience her
At full strength,
Until you understand
From whence she comes.

The Red Fairy Is a nocturnal creature.
Her gossamar wings
Fade in the sunlight.
Many try to protect her,
By keeping her in the dark,
But this strategy always fails.
She will find her way out,
Back in front of you,
And you'll never realize,
You opened the door yourself.

The Red Fairy
Has her detractors,
Who will tell you,
Her beauty fades over time.
Those loyal to her do not heed
These admonitions,
Closing their eyes, listening
As she asks,
“Do you like my tits?”

©2014, Edward J. Branley. All rights reserved.

Apologies

When someone knows you
Better than you do yourself,
It does neither of you any good To hold a grudge.

The ability to move away
From mere mortals
And find a path
That allows you to avoid
The awkward confrontations Is easy to summon.

But when that one you're avoiding
Is a force of nature,
Someone who knows you
Someone who cares about you
Someone who defends you
Someone who would take a bullet for you,
There comes a time
To put away childish things
Like petty jealousy
Like pride
Like the inertia of silence
And put things right.

©2014 Edward Branley

Hotels

The hotel room is a blank canvas,
Painted on by many, only to
Be wiped clean with strong chemicals
Upon the departure of the artist.

The paintings are various portraits:
Of lovers
Of secrets
Of ideas
Of lonlieness
Of despair.

Some portraits are completed by
Check-out time.
Others are unfinished works
That can't be completed,
But rather a new painting
Is started
When the artist finds a new hotel.

The portraits are rarely viewed
By anyone but the housekeeping staff
Who can look at the works in progress
And feel the emotions
The anticipation,
The excitement,
The passion,
The disappointment,
The finality.

Then the linens are replaced,
The furniture reset,
And the bathroom sanitized,
As the canvas awaits
Its next painter.

©2014 Edward Branley