Sitting in a coffee shop

Sitting all alone in an unknown coffee shop

My shoes were full of water, I wasn’t really there

I was trapped inside the greenhouse, emitting a red stare

Now I have no handbag, I’m carrying a mop

I’m going to the library I am feeling quite unreal

I said I’d meet my sister, I could tell her how I feel.

In my cappuccinos the fosm has just congealed

I don’t like the books here not even just to steal.

I went to an exhibition, the price was rather high

I thought that it was textiles I hope they will be silk

But see there’s Tracey Emin, she’s embroidering a quilt

I can look upwards I can see the starry sky

I’m sitting in the coffee shop, I don’t like that milk

I suppose I better drink it or I will surely wilt