The place where the antisocial
Gather to be alone
Each claiming a four-seat table
As space they can call their own.
We read, write and sip in silence
Observing our counterparts
Affronted by vocal violence
Where chattering children pass
I’m nearing the end of one cup
But pause while another stands
It wouldn’t be fair to counter
The pull of their drink demands
So queueing for table service
I duck to avoid the eye
Of waitress who makes me nervous
By bussing a bench nearby
We know those we see here often
But only on nodding terms
Some barriers never soften
And hand-shaking passes germs
Anxiety takes no notice
With all interactions dear
We pass out our days in closeness
And try to ignore our fear
We’re hardly inventing lonely
Though solitude equals peace
And we are our one and only
Unlikely to breed – we’ll cease
It isn’t a cause for wonder
That our generation stalls
When clearing one’s throat is thunder
Too sensitive for applause
And here in our counter culture
We’re safe from the fond embrace
We run from our awkward feelings
Too late to be in the race.
Katherine Shirley 