"like a dream, there are many levels to reality..."
Corner tables,
Piled with wrappers,
Mainland tourists,
With shaded eyes,
Abuse plush couches
Suited workmen,
hunched over glossy tables,
Converse in business,
Learning each other
As they play the game of houses
Ragged students,
husks of themselves,
Copy their notes
Learning by rote,
By repetition to succeed,
In this modern mall cafe
Voices arise from these tables
mixing, matching,
Strangling the delicate Jazz,
pressed into the background
In this dim ambiance
The heat of humanity
fit for an in
All as I sit
by my small edge of room
Reading, and trying to read
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