Final version


I left my house
and on the way to where I was going
I stopped to buy a coffee
even though I don't drink coffee.
It was an iced coffee
It was cold and left powder on my tongue
And before I had finished
I left to find a shop
to buy a pen and a book
to write this
(the pen I didn't buy
because I forgot, so I stole it instead
even though I said I'd never steal again
if only to avoid the bad karma.
It's a blue pen and it doesn't write like I thought it would).
Then I returned to my coffee
And the people raised their eyebrows thinking
I was sitting down to someone else's
coffee.
And then I imagine leaving here
and walking in a daze again
enjoying the way things can lose
their focus, if I let them
but wishing
wishing...
And I forgot to mention this morning I saw
a pigeon, with a broken wing
and I couldn't carry on eating my sandwich
because I felt sick with pity
and powerless
And this hypersensitivity
makes me want to hide
but I love it all the same
(Although sometimes
it is too much
and I do want to hide
immobile)
I'm still in the café
And your feet, you people
Fit well with the music
That crackles
Pleasantly from the speaker near my ear



Second version


I left my house
and on the way to where I was going
I stopped to buy a coffee
even though I don't drink coffee.
It was an ice-coffee
Which left powder on my tongue
And before I had finished
I left to find a shop
to buy a pen and a book
to write this
(the pen I didn't buy
because I forgot, so I stole it instead
even though I said I'd never steal again
if only for reasons of karma.
it doesn't write like I thought it would).
Then I returned to my coffee
And the people raised their eyebrows thinking
I was sitting down to someone else's
coffee.
And then I imagine leaving here
and walking in a daze again
enjoying the way things can lose
their focus, if I let them
but wishing
wishing...
And I forgot to mention this morning I saw
a pigeon, who's wing had broken
and I couldn't carry on eating my sandwich
because i felt sick with pity
and I had no power
And this hypersensitivity
makes me want to hide
but I love it all the same
(though the powerlessness is sometimes
too much
and I do want to hide
to not move)
I'm still in the café
And your feet, you people
Fit with the music
That crackles
From the speaker near my ear



First version


I left my house
and on the way to where I was going
I stopped to buy a coffee
even though I don't drink coffee.
It was an iced coffee
It was cold and left powder on my tongue
And before I had finished
I left to find a shop
to buy a pen and a book
to write this
(the pen I didn't buy
because I forgot, so I stole it instead
even though I said I'd never steal again
if only to avoid the bad karma.
It's a blue pen and it doesn't write like I thought it would).
Then I returned to my coffee
And the people raised their eyebrows thinking
I was sitting down to someone else's
coffee.
And then I imagine leaving here
and walking in a daze again
Enjoying my blurred vision but
wishing
wishing...
And I forgot to mention this morning I saw
a pigeon, with a broken wing
and I couldn't carry on eating my sandwich
because I felt sick with pity
and powerless
And this hypersensitivity
makes me want to hide
but I love it all the same
(though the powerlessness is sometimes
too much
and I do want to hide
immobile)
I'm still in the café
And your feet, you people
Fit well with the music
That crackles
Pleasantly from the speaker near my ear