Thursday, March 06, 2003

Thursday Poem: Ode to Roy Hobbs

Robert Redford walked into my dream
Last night.
He calmly sat down
Across from me, and
Cursed at the adjacent table,
Pointing and snarling at the
Three people, whom sat baffled.

I never met them before.
But I took pictures of them,
With a disposable camera
That I stole from
7-11.

He ordered a Scotch and soda,
Then he smoked my last cigarette,
taking it out of my pocket, without
Asking.
Which was odd
Because I don't smoke.

He spoke soft words
And I laughed when the sluggish waiter
Slipped on a mango skin and fell,
Dropping a dozen empty
Plates and pieces of saliva soaked silverware.

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