I sip thick espresso from a thick hemisphere of china

Snick, replace the cup in the saucer

This is where I am

In the Cafe Doomsday

Where a train of thin jeans and cocked hats

Fawn pencil dresses and ornate rims holding plain glass

Affected ties and conspicuous smoking

Passes through

Takes the mic

Tells us in thick verse and thick voice

Slick lines clicking

Picking out in tones of rhythm

How we will meet our end

Each carriage voice sets their carriage clock

to a different full-stop

Each oration declares our final destination

as a different station

They move like geckos, bent straw limbed

stiff with self-awareness

These eschatological declarers

Who when done sit

Sip thick espresso from a thick hemisphere of china

Sure that their prophecy is coming