Jeffrey Skinner

At Another Table


At one table I am midwife to pygmies
At another a boy calling for his mother’s sole attention
Then a man in a t-shirt recalling “Cow Days 2004"
A woman sighing to her cell
        twirling sex from one finger        
At a far table I am the train pulling in
        station Prague                     
        strong bitter espresso
        high iron rafters    dry flap of wings

At others I am cooking up real estate deals
A minister writing her last sermon
Five castrati angels
        voices stirring
        coffee into blackest oil
At the last table I am my own family
Their chairs & mine bobbing on the battered tin
        of the Atlantic   Come over Jeff    
        Come over   they say    
        Come on over and join us   for the last
        time   waving from the waves