Leopold cafe

Surely somebody up there
Must be holding  earth up

In an empty sky and stars
And else from their falling.

Except in the Leopold café
Where bodies fall behind

That  have just eaten roti,
And wait to eat their rice.

Young man with rucksack
Has a sky view, thoughts.

He seems to love no rice
Loves his religious bread.

This man with a rucksack
Loves body’s autumn-fall.

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