Short Patrons Poems

Carrieokie queen
Helen Keller cries the blues
Patrons vomit...

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gardens overflow 
hungry patrons full tummies 
full spread at table...

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Golden arch covers
Smiling cashiers poaching dough
Obese patrons gorge...

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The all Feathers Cafe
most seedy patrons welcome
no wait, perch yourself...

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vapor fog store
patrons exit; mismatched socks....
smiley faces   ...

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politics pandemics piety and poetry ~ patrons of the parlour


                                           ***...

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An unshaven programmer tech
Drooled java on a Starbucks deck
His net earnings grew
As fooled patrons threw
Dinero to pay for his check...

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Donatello the greatest sculptor of his day
with his nude he  held sway
Keeping close to his patrons,Medici
who settled bills& paid him a fee...

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once a breadmaker named peas

his shop it smelled of stale cheese

so patrons complained

and a court arraigned

he'd open after a breeze.
...

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Bartenders are like Priest
on confession days

They listen contently to
their patrons
with open ears,
give advise,
then send them
on their way...

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A professional wrestler of gators
Tried his luck as a restaurant waiter
   He'd feint and he'd juke
   Many patrons puked
Seafood business surprisingly cratered...

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A blind poet stumbles into a bar
Counts the number of drunk patrons there are
   Adds up all the burps
   Plus all the loud slurps
Drives them home in his brand-new sports car...

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That magnificent canvas on the museum wall
  Is it a bubble, a bauble, a bird -- or nothing at all?
Its mystery the artist masterfully disguised 
  So patrons will its enigma forever analyze...

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News to confirm,
and not to inform

A slap on the back,
new patrons reborn

To pander or slander,
a partisan line

No minds to be changed
—their chorus reminds

(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)...

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for sociology, politics, economics
theology or any other ethics
extremity
in human character
at every step of life
patrons terrorism!

extremist
mostly avoidable!



-July 26, 2019 Chattogram...

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By Angeline Vine

The rats were lively
falling from ceiling tiles
running for an open door
some had no tails
and later their photos were 
on the news 

The patrons were eating 
spaghetti and meatballs...

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There once a lady who worked magic
If not for curling iron, 'twould be tragic
With a quick shampoo she cleaned
Telling stories from other's she's gleaned
Patrons leave as though renewed estatic  ...

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Dreamt of the cute waitress who served us last night
Frequent patrons of this eatery, crepes are dynamite
But the bonus is her hugs
Entering and leaving that I love
Especially when she offers her yummy dessert delight...

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burst of rapid energy
voluptuous curves of
your flirting innocence
angels intoxicated by the
patrons of branded love
dance in the mouth of a
surreptitious storm
witnessing the loud past
of a circulating wind
we are making
our bed...

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books feel no pain
though tattered and torn. 

not pricked with voodoo precision,
chiseled at the gums.

my upturned smile borrows misery.
I can not turn the pages.

the patrons read my lips
"woe be gone"...

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The piano preening proudly center-stage
Her keys dazzling diamonds
While patrons crane stiff collars
To steal an unfettered look.
The lights dim, pin-drop silence
As the soloist, majestic, breathes deep
  ~ An elegant flick of his wrist...

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Dreamt of the yummy waitress who served us last night
Frequent patrons of this eatery whose crepes are dynamite
But the bonus is her hugs
Entering and leaving that I love
Especially when she offers her yummy dessert delight...

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Dreamt of the yummy young thing that served us last night
Frequent patrons of this eatery whose crepes are dynamite
But the bonus is her hugs
Entering and leaving that I love
Especially when she offers her yummy dessert delight...

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She was a jolly seamstress Miss Gritches

     Who was a whiz at patchin' men's britches

          And alterin' ladies skirts

                And sewin' buttons on shirts

                     'Twas said she kept her patrons in 'stitches'...

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The Sahara is another vast sea
   Of zero-edge horizons
And remote hours of austerity
   For "sailors" upon caravans

And the Sun beams mercilessly
   And seems cruel to patrons
Until the Wind scoffs haggardly
   And reshapes its art of dunes....

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