Mumbling A Conversation

Folder: 
Unpublished pieces

Flowers and dogs get on my nerves. 
One pretending to be important beauty, 
the other slobbering on my shoes, 
humping my leg, 
barking in my brain. 
I rub hand-cream on my hands 
and let the cream adsorb itself 
into my frame of mind. 
Walking to the house of a friend, 
remembering this friend was behind a wall. 
We kept this wall secure between us. 
No way we'd knock it down 
and talk from our imaginations! 
We'll chatter and comment 
on the weather or people we 
know in common. We'll have a coffee 
and smoke our cigarettes. 
Pretending that the most interesting 
topic on the entire planet was 
how hot it has been, how cold it has been. 
Endless conversations about the 
f-ing weather. About the rain or the snow 
or the hail or the shape of the sun. 
His dog will jump on on me, 
ruining my perspective. 
We'll look at his garden and 
talk about the growing season. 
I'll hate the dog and despise the flowers. 
I'll slap him on the back when I leave, 
and with all the sincerity of a dead puppy 
mumble "see you later, have a nice day."

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