CUSHION

The meal’s courses
Like a wedding banquet
My friends’ braised pork
Their little cabbages

Tasted worse than they smelled
A smoldering drink called Holo
And a sautéed pear
With pomegranate reduction

I cornered the waiter
A blonde boy
Dyed the same blonde with the same cut
Each smelling of spices
Spikes through all the right places

It was my last chance

I will soon be a wise
Wrinkled woman
Growing old with some geezer
Talking about books and
How bitter the iced tea is today

 

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