Not a Poem
I’ve been sitting at a local fast-food joint
Waiting for my friend, who was outside
Having a chat with some girl he loved once;
He didn’t anymore and just wanted to set things straight.
I ordered myself a medium strawberry shake
And just sat there listening to Bill Evans
As the most peculiar thing caught my sight:
All around me were men in their 30’s and 40's,
Drinking draft beer and staring sadly
Either at their phones or simply at the table.
They all shared a common tired and dumb look;
Hell, I thought, how low do you have to be
To drink horrible overpriced beer at a fast-food joint
Alone, at 7 pm?
At the next table, two young girls
Were having a dinner; so smily, happy
And full of life I sat there overwhelmed.
Why not just go there and talk to them?
But those sullen faces kept staring,
Rigid and unemotional, except for an occasional sigh,
Immediately followed by a gulp.
I glanced at the same table again —
Those girls were gone and another
Asian woman was siping her coke…
Some hum broke through the Shadow of Your Smile.
I looked around: different men, same posture;
Same look, same sadness,
Same disgusting smell,
Same lonely warm beer.
I picked up my coat and my hat,
Tied my checkered scarf around the neck
And went outside,
Smiling.
