Off Go I
Surely there is some seasonal reason for such loss of reason,
you know, hormones clouding the brain due to springtime cycles.
Perhaps I ought not be seeing their interlude,
Perhaps I ought to be exhibiting loyalty to my friend, who's being deceived by these,
these two so caught up in one another that the expensive, trendy coffee they've bought one another goes cold with neglect.
I'm thinking about how thirsty I am, and maybe I could sneak in and surreptitiously steal the drink. They ought not notice, so lost in one another's ardent gaze as they are, so self-righteous in their ardor, this strange game of infidelity.
If I had a dollar, I'd buy my own coffee. But my pockets are empty, and this scene transfixes me. I could walk into the middle of their moment, abduct the meaningful glances and whispered words of undying commitment, make them my own just long enough to carry them back to my friend, my cheated friend, to unload them on unsuspecting, suddenly quivery shoulders.
And I could offer my unflinching self as a base, something to hold onto
during the ensuing storm of curse words and glass things thrown against walls.
During it all, the rock, yes me the rock, more sandstone or pumice but
still a rock, like a rock, that constant friend-thing for to fib.
Your hard-knock Always.
So I haven't moved, nor torn my stare away from them, all sugary sweet forbidden romantic-like.
And I'm still wanting for coffee, and I'm still weighing the pros and the conditions of
being the bearer of Bad News.
or maybe just Long Time Coming News. maybe better this way. maybe best if I say nothing at all.
But you, loyalty to you Above All Others, I will do my duty for you,
and be your stupid old rock when you go off and find another one just like the last,
and I'll be doing this all again sometime soon.
and I'll still be thinking about how thirsty I am
and I'll still be thinking about how empty my pockets are.
So. I'm up, I'm off, mapping out how to tell you as I wander past their table,
give them a look like the executioner who's Willing and Able but Just Doing My Job,
and there's nothing they can do but make fumbled quick plans,
plans to avoid the impending collision, but I'm on a mission, I cannot be stopped
or dissuaded. (Unless, perhaps, you offered me that drink of yours?)
-erm 9.13.02