Based on ‘Where we are’ by Stephen Dobyns

Shaking a glass ball - a man

stares into the scene, as snow

falls onto plastic figures

Dipping her chips into the blob of mayonnaise

A woman bites down; white liquid oozes

through the gaps of her teeth

Knobbly elbows and stooped shoulders

lean in

Table legs wobble, white knuckles

grasp jugs of beer

Hands waft waitresses’, between sips

and slurps of drinks

Shiny paper, flung to the floor: Crushed

under careless feet

Big orange lamp swings, it’s long

plaited chain rattles the glass

A sharp breeze climbs the stairs, enters the room

like an uninvited guest

Small glass ball rolls, indiscriminately -

drops and shatters

Paper grows soggy, a woman slips in pointed

sequined shoes

Outside a December winds gusts; the chip painted

window lock loosens

A man sways, his cracked hand reaches for the bell

A waitress trips, her foot catches the carpet

This is where we are in history - to think that the drinks

will continue to flow - the walls we have built will protect

us from our gluttony

A small glass ball shimmers proudly in the light -

drops and shatters - it’s plastic figures disregarded

and swept away.

By Belinda Johnston

All poems are copyright of the original author, permission is needed using or performing another poets' work.