First to Arrive at the Party

To go in? to order a drink?
To disturb the card houses
Of cheese, crackers, strawberries?
Or wait?

To try not to concentrate
On the trish-trash music
Or the shapely, silent waitress
The quietly deafening hiss of the heaters
Or imagine the sunset reflected accross the lake

Daylight incrimentally drained
By each burst of, teasingly, tippled
Laughter from another party
But only after the silent blessings
Of the swans and the uneducated
Raucus dismissal of the ducks.

THe music clicks, whines and unwinds
Ceaselessly and STILL nobody arrives

Floodlit table flowers smile
Into non-existent eyes
Real flowers, toes in the dirt,
Close their minds
And put their faith in dawn.

Suddenly I am blended with eight others who,
Smile back at the flowers
Demolish and engulf the houses
Gone the hiss, the music, the ducks.

WRM