There’s not much happening
at the Place du Juif.
Even pedestrians are a few
scattered across the Square.
Mr T. is coming in ten Minutes
which extends to half an hour.
He cannot keep time ever
and his wife will not answer
her phone.
Perhaps she’s had enough
of him and all the staff.
Whatever.
Old man Khan from Kashmir
comes inside the gallery
tries to sell some self-made
jewelry. Semi-precious stone
And silver.
The girls working here know him
but I don’t buy something
for it’s a personal taste for spouse
or girlfriend.
I am ready, impatient to leave
and T. keeps me waiting
not yet willing to discuss an
hourly rate for my time.
Has his memory drawn a blank
yet again?
zoltanzelan
ZJG-Poetry’17.