a brief encounter in Newcastle

a brief encounter in Newcastle

 

kicking my heels in Heaton Street,

sitting in the ‘Shoe Tree’ cafe -

drinking cappuccino coffee.

at my table, not beautiful,

but oozing character and style,

sat a striking woman, reading

 

her soya moustache looked funny

I indicated it, discreetly,

she tissued clean,

mouthed ‘thank you’

then pointed out mine

 

the cafe had a record playing,

Nesrine Balmokh singing Ahlam

the music spoke my loneliness,

it moved the stranger too,

who seemed as solitary as me

 

she sighed her book away,

smiled at me,

half-waved ‘goodbye’,

then headed through the

rattling wooden beading curtain

 

I fancied her, so told myself,

‘quick, chat her up, you’ve nothing to lose'

 

she was well out of my league so

I headed for the Laing instead -

its Pre-Raphaelites are meant to be

priceless - and admission’s free

 

deep in contemplation of Alma-Tadema’s

sensous erotica ‘Love in Idleness’

(picturing myself up close with the women there)

a voice distracted me,

 

‘they’re holding an exhibition

at the Hatton - pop-art paintings,

Roy Lichtenstein... I’m off there now

(this from my ‘Shoe Tree’ commensal)

come with me if you fancy it,

by the way, my name is Katie’

 

at the Hatton, Katie, was not best pleased,  

‘Lichtenstein? - flashy porn-art for the illiterati’

(‘illiterati’? that meant me)

 

she took me next door

to her favourite work of Art -

the ‘Merzbarn’ wall,

‘Voila!’

 

eyes alight, she gushed,

‘Schwitters was a genius,

his work is incomparable

no artist I’ve seen or heard of

can hope to hold a candle’

 

(I didn’t ‘get it’ but nodded agreement anyway)

 

later in ‘The Journey’ cafe,

it was vegan Magnum choc-ices

and vegan cappuccino coffees -

twin moustaches

 

my bus arrived on time - worse luck.

no friendly hug, no kiss, no peck,

I climbed aboard - no looking back,

thinking,

 

‘thanks, Kate, for the ices ‘n’ all -

shame about that Merzbarn wall.’