Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Poem #67

She'd been a beauty
It was there in the coiffed blonde do
The expensive boots
The real jewelry
Now a plastic glass of wine in her hand
Then another
And a third
It didn't take long to hear
the laugh too loud
the comments shouted out
in the quiet between lines
The handsome man in the next seat
Tried to contain her
His arm around her shoulders
His hand on her knee
Less affection perhaps
Than his own discomfort

As she became the play
within the play
the spectacle of herself
the train wreck you don't turn away from
I shuffled through the cue cards
of my annoyance
embarrassment
sadness
recognition
She was my age
And I had lived that life long ago
Where the inappropriate
spills all over you
in an indelible stain

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