I Thought We Were Done Doing Weird Stuff

I like unnatural line breaks, damned if I know why. All the same, here's today's entry, and little to no description before it, you're in luck today it would seem.

Some Days They Have Free Coffee Here

Mid-afternoon and the place reeks
of dust and faux-intellectualism
and I sit alone at a table
pen in hand
scrap of aged construction paper
swiped from the children’s section,
they’d be pissed if they knew
how I was stealing their paper
and sometimes their crayons
and writing the things I write with ‘em

So I sat, and stared at the paper
while staying vaguely aware
of the four-eyed rats who flock here
so they can play up their intellect
and fake that they know
about life and art and beauty
and sometimes they think I’m one of them
when I’m sat alone staring at paper
and they’ll ask me if I’m a writer
and I tell ‘em no
so they ask me if I’m working
and I tell ‘em no
so they ask me if I’m looking to read something
because if I am they’ve got something
which they claim I simply must read
but I tell ‘em no
then they ask why I am here
like I’m intruding on their lives
and I look at ‘em and say

Because some days
they have free coffee here
and they glare and walk off.

And I’m glad to see ‘em go.