Bad Behavior in a Mexican Restaurant
The day your umbrella sailed
the length of the room, I walked,
counting. So many blocks back
to the hotel, the lower East Side
disappearing, finally, Midtown
coming into view. You cheated
and took the subway, beating me
there. I knew you would. Later,
you changed cars, to get closer.
Three and a half hours by train
and still I couldn't look at you.
© 2014 Maureen E. Doallas
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
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4 comments:
The title and first line have a comic touch, but oh, how things change fast. The end-line words "cheated" then "beating me" are chilling.
This fine poem makes me wonder: does creating art out of a terrible experience reduce the terror? Somehow shape the experience so that it can be held at a slight distance from your psyche?
Peggy said it so well. The comedic side suddenly changed and made me crawl into myself with fear. So much said in so few words - magnificent
Masterfully chilling Maureen.
umbrella throwing,
that is bad behavior.
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