Perched on the exam
table like a rib roast on
white butcher paper.
In the doctor’s office
2
Perched on the exam
table like a rib roast on
white butcher paper.
I probably said
more than she wanted to know
but it’s decades past.
Big Ben. Fish and chips.
Carnaby Street. What I see
as I say hello.
I thought I believed
but I’ve had friends see more truth
inside a beer mug.
Tricky business this.
We sit in a circle and
bridge death through belief.
Tall, thin, crisp suit, shined
shoes. Smooth manner. But I’m not
medium convinced.
The front door opened
three times with no one there but
the night was windy.
The spiritualist
had us believing until
his ‘Wicked’ comment.
Fine fountain pens, ink,
leather folders make work seem
like gracious living.
Bandana over
his sweet smile, ninja to his
anime girlfriend.