Please Shut Up in My Coffeeshop so I can Study and Don’t Have to Resort to Writing Irritated Poems
by Shaun Terry
Forcefully making failed circles
in a pool of gelatin,
pressing arms and legs,
Writing disjointed thoughts
in a small, brown bound notebook,
waiting for divine inspiration.
Math problems strewn
over charts and workbooks,
lying in a pile,
like a pack of wolves defeated.
over cinnamon and piano,
like a field of jagged mountains,
and not like a soup of snowy waves.