Black Swamp Infozone > Shawn > Works > Poetry - Dog Chain Girl

White man Jamaican dreadlocks band, rock reggae roots less black than the coffee I'm drinking. Coffee shop crowd all pretzelled in under dim lights under fans over cheesecake and notebooks. It's Saturday night in the kingdom of caffeine cool. Check out the berets and the trembling hands. Tonight I'm civilian--longhair bluejeans scribbling poetry eating Toblerone. I buy cappuccino from a quiet girl pretty, funny I never can remember her name. And she smiles smiles shyly smiles pleased to see me I think but who knows? And I smile back smile smile my best smile. Like I said who knows it's just a game we play.

Beside me sits the leather crowd, high school civilian too for the night. Just jackets so you'd never know, except for the dog chain girl. She's still in harness. No leather tonight no spikes but still that metal chain around her neck. Dog chain girl so tough we've never talked but I like her anyway. Like her looks so young and nice yeah nice despite the chains and leather. I like the big old boat her mother drives. (See her shamefaced dropped off and NOT looking back.)

I'd turn right now and say hello say, but how the hell would that play? I know my limits just some old guy almost thirty and pretty square for all my poetry and hair. A little lost in the kingdom of cool. Not like her not like the dog chain girl. Pounding white man reggae throbbing cappuccino worldbeat neotribal hipster caffeine nightmare. Berets. Notebooks. Cheesecake. Could I have another double? Can I get by please? Yeah jah love excuse me mon but I and I gotta get some air right now. Coffee cup tightrope and jostle doorslam!

And outside. . .

Outside the riverwind blows down the cobblestones, blows leaves and smell of coffee roasting outside beyond the beat. Outside the wind blows and I shiver now with cold drink my double cappuccino looking in through windows. I turn now shiver tremble now I can't say why. Turn my back turn walk away now coffee cup deserted on the wooden bench. Down along the high banks to where the rivers meet. Breathe listen. Breathe. Listen. Just me the moon the river riverwind.

Sometimes I go a little crazy, get a little lost.
And sometimes I get a little scared.
And sometimes I wonder
Do you scare yourself too, dog chain girl?