| The circle |
| sitting around the circle the ones I know have left leaving me nameless empty a solid vacuum whom others talk around laughing chatting the words float aimlessly around the black coffee someone spills it but it doesn�t matter the room is alive with chittering bats flitting in the shadows of the lit room their words are empty thin echoes off the stuccoed walls I sit in a corner and I cry though I don�t know why weeping salt tears into the bitter coffee outside they wait the unwanted gazing up at the lit window and the emptiness within a siren a scuffle lost in the cold chatter of fashionable poets and their cliquish followers after all it is the �in� thing to do I swallow the cold black coffee and take my leave from a room that doesn�t know I�m gone but I take my coat and my chances and escape the circle into the friendly night |
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| � 2003 Kyle Altis. All rights reserved. |