there is nothing worse than being in exile

i stir my coffee slowly
clockwise and then anti-clockwise.
a newspaper sits on the table like stale crackers
moist from the humid air,

a drop of sweat
hanging precariously
from the tip of my nose
collapses;
suddenly giving up
………..its will

descending below -
to rest upon
an empty page of a diary
dated September 29.