Invisible Poem can you see me?
a quick glance at my face
and longer stare at the clothes I wear
answering arbitrary questions
"do you got a job?"
or
"what kinda car you drive?"
and I smiled
giving acceptable
and yet
honest answers
we sat there over dinner and drinks
politely conversating about
nothing we really cared about
did I see you?
I thought I did
hidden somewhere between the
cleavage and curves
or
was it my hormones conducting the interview
maybe I wasn't looking in the right place
uppercuts and jabs
my back is against the ropes
defensive positioning
"how many kids YOU got?"
and
"do YOU got a job?"
your answers were honest
and superficially acceptable
now
intellectually satisfied
(for the time being) |