It was as if the biggest bucket
from the fountain
had finally been tipped
over the edge by that last
drop and was spilling
all over the city that day.
It’s raining men
he said leaning across
to stick my coffee receipt
to my jacket,
using the collected water
droplets as adhesive.
Looking down, I noticed
that on the receipt he had sketched
a tiny man with a mini
matching moustache.
This poem won the Whitireia Eat Your Words poetry competition. It has been published, along with other competition poems in Eat Your Words: Wellington Cafe Poems. Email cafepoetrycomp@whitireia.ac.nz for your copy.
Used with the permission of Whitireia Publishing and Briar Rose Davies (pictured below).
This poem has been posted as part of the Tuesday Poem scheme.
booksellersnz.wordpress.com 