It’s been done before:
The intention of conversation
starts and ends with a slow walk
around a familiar, short block –
the light purse or empty pocket.
(Tonight
after all
should only call for some cash.)
A set of doors is chosen
but not broached,
and reluctance comes as a reminder
of isolated drinks
where music from cars
(circling the block in search of a parking spot)
is forgotten
on the front and back
of a red paper napkin.
—
This poem was originally published in Toasted Cheese Literary Journal, but I am reposting it as Uk-based Dagda Publishing published it yesterday. Thanks, Dagda!