Hanging about in coffee shops

I have neither black beret or goatee, nor a dingy garret in the Rive Gauche, but I have been known to slack off in the Art House...

Two hours in an art café

Meet a friend to campaign
for the release of
friends in Russian jails,
plotting over a pot of builder’s tea
(with cow not soy),
a coffee
(organic, natch – once again with cow)
and a ‘voluptuous vegan’,
most suggestive of menu items,

admire a white-on-blue
painting of a koi carp
like inverted porcelain,
before a quick-and-foamy beer
lubricates some more pen-and-ink work
and a chat about housing
and mental health,

high-five today’s successes,
grumble about cheap tat
polluting craft fairs,
hope to sell more jewellery,
feel good about getting a picture framed
and wonder how high to price it –

the bus comes to take me away.