Corner Cafe
by Alexios Antypas
The cook smokes when the place is empty, one after the other searing densely packed Hungarian cigarettes. After midnight I fatten myself on greasy hamburgers while the cook sings in his bitter tongue. For years we’ve kept our distance this way. From my room across the street I watch him light another cigarette, detailing time, never once looking up.
Alexios Antypas was born in Munich, Germany, and has lived in Budapest, Hungary since 2000. He teaches environmental policy at Central European University. His poems have appeared in Poetry International, The Bitter Oleander, The Spoon River Poetry Review, Controlled Burn, Bayou, and other journals.