At Dome Café
Andrew Burke
Reading Tom Shapcott upstairs at DOME Café < I feel like writing. Many times creative ideas come
on an empty stomach. I order a lemon meringue with a cappuccino. Meg at the counter has
hair as black as black and electric pink with black edging on her upper eyelids. But it is only
visible when she blinks. She blinks. Electric pink with black edging. I want her to blink again. I
indulge in a little small talk. She blinks. It is so exceptional. I think of her in front of her
bedroom mirror, steady hand at the thin brush, first one lid then the other. Meticulously. slow
kisses on the eyelids of the sea, (Berrigan).The lemon meringue is beautifully formed when it
arrives, a little snow capped island. And the hands that sculptured it. This morning I threw three caterpillars out from our courtyard to our front lawn. Let them eat there. Black one, ginger one
and a bright green one. Nature has its own reasons for colours. I look out the window. There’s a
white jet against a blue sky. Some wonders never cease.
Tom Shapcott says it all: The fabulous! That is what we want, not decaffeinated moments
scratched from the routine that somehow crept behind us and proffered life on a tray with
mass-produced biscuits.
My name is Andrew Burke born Melbourne 1944 but living mainly in Perth, Western Australia. I have been a creative director in advertising and a lecturer at various Universities.I have a baker's dozen collections out, a novel for PhD, a batch of playlets and a song in '70s, loads of reviews and articles in lit mags, etc. Retired now but mumbling in Hi Spirits blogspot