Catching Up
What luck! We meet by chance, and have to pantomimeCivility. The years peel back, as do the scars which
Cushioned us until this moment, face to face upon
A sidewalk shadowed by the cheerless exhortations
Of the corporations hereabout, insisting that we spend
Our money proving to the ones we love, or like, or have
To be around, that we appreciate them, though, in many
Cases, we do not. We smile, winter crocodiles. Forced
To face our memories of infidelities and fights, we say
We're glad to see each other, madly crane our necks
In search of means through which we might escape,
And separate with much relief. You disappear into
The package-laden burghers headed home, and I
Look for the nearest bar. You're gone again. I'm
Served a double bourbon. Oh, what luck!
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
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Written on 2018-12-06 at 02:20
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