Chivas Sandage
Originally published in The Evergreen Review Issue 109 in 2004.
While the talker talks
you listen – the slight tilt
of your head upon that pale
stalk of neck suggests
Goodness. Your eyes blink
to punctuate
fine taste, that old
code of Lady. Trapped
by the monologist,
you do not
protest–the civilized
lie protects you from
what you want: that
cigarette, that
highball, that
bulge
in black, pleated trousers
across the room.
Your crossed legs slowly
cross again, knees together, gingerly
shifting your hips as if
fragile
or dangerous.
