i tire easily of your charade.
the back of the restaurant is the most opportune
place for conversation.
you can’t possibly like the scenery.
effervescent as
the moon, the light above shines
malevolently
casting an unfavorable shadow on the surroundings
and even the plastic plant is dying.
i have come to the conclusion
that there’s not much you can do
besides talk.
you’re no musician
you’re no artist
you’re a talker.
now go talk your way
out of this place
and into somewhere more
relenting.
10/31/2007