Soiree

She had a way with words
said
she knew i
was a great poet-to be
and invited me
to a little soiree
of friends
there was a professor
his snotty wife
possible librarian
their 8 yr old kid
couple of teachers
artists I think
her
the neighbours
& me
sipping red
wishing for rum
y’know how it is
as
the talk turned
to sales
the artists were doing
just ok
little gallery show
here n there
students
as ever
some daubing
others
bright young things
the neighbours
listening
sipping red
wondering if this was
how hobnobbing
with artistes was
& began too I think
wishing for rum
we made the 8yr old
scratch out a tune
on her violin
for a lifetime
maybe two
& the talk turned
to the words
in rows thing
the prof got into it
banging his drum
about the importance
meaning of
rime riche
rime pauvre
while I scanned
kitchen cabinets for rum
he was disappointed
in me
for my enthusiasm
or lack
in his great
esprit d’artisan
aren’t we all
i thought
as I found a half pint
& gave him a line
or two
of the free verse
knew I’d reached
possibly cracked him
I thought
when he reached
out for the rum
it was about then
the evening got started

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