The Sin-Eater likes to drink coffee.
I see him occasionally;
every now and then,
between George and Pitt.

He has a decaf latte usually,
although sometimes
I spot him with a flat white
or even a mocha
during particularly tough eras.

Poor bloke I think,
but he feasts well I suppose.
In passing I always make sure to do the pleasantries,
'how's the weather been in Borneo?'
'You still with Cindy these days?'

Once I had a bit of time to kill,
and asked him where he was off to next?
'Hyde' he said,
'You're quite fond of parks aren't you?
I mean there was that other one a few centuries ago
with that poet, what's his name—'
'Wilmot.'
'Yeah! He wrote that, jesus, what was it?
Something about rambling in a park?'

We were silent for a way,
I mean he's a serious kind of guy.
At any rate when we got to Hyde,
I offered to buy him a coffee next time
our schedules unexpectedly meet.
Vaguely I think as I was walking away
I heard him say
'I fucking hate it when people remember my work.'