I HOPE ALL THE OLD PEOPLE GET DISEASES AND DIE

By Wendy Davey

sitting in the café

surrounded by books he

sneezes

put your hand up to your mouth

I say

And he says no

and then he stands up and says

very loudly

I hope all the old people get diseases and die

and then he sits down again

his face flushed

eyes hard focused nowhere

disregarding the lady with her white hair

deep-rooted

in her wheelchair

how dare you

I say

but he carries on anyway

spinning the fidget in his hand

telling me I’ll be sorry

telling me I touched him

(I didn’t)

and walking away

off towards the door

and I am mortified

I want to let him go

how can I let him go, though?

When he has no off

no stop

no filter

when he doesn’t care

if he walks into calamity

or under a passing car

and so I stand too

reluctantly

I want to cry

but cannot

because all the people in the shop

are watching

some aghast

and some with curiosity

and then the old woman nods

and smiles at me

and that is how it is

how her witness

sets me free

#darkpoetsclub