Monday, March 23, 2009


We talked of things inconsequential:
Café decor, the dinner special,
When weather passed a brief review,
I searched your face for the slightest clue
Of a topic that might interest you.

Of shopping I was ignorant,
Of fashion I could not present
Opinions that were really mine.
The drinks were tinged with lemon rind-
The walls awash in knotty pine.

But suddenly to my dismay,
You rambled on to Rabelais,
Da-Da, Ibsen, also Frost-
There seemed no theme you might exhaust-
It was in Freud where I got lost.

That was when they served the fruit,
My thoughts just took a different route,
Your lipstick color was intense,
You fluffed your hair with reverence,
Your fingers signaled confidence.

Now, topics offer much potential
For conversation deemed essential,
But- I think I like inconsequential.

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