At a Party Where Only Fools Read the Menu After They’ve Eaten

I wish the flowers were already in a vase

Because they weigh heavily in the back of the car

Partner worried about how long we should stay

I hold his hand and say ‘let’s play it by ear’

Steps up to the entrance resemble a waving invitation

Length of my stride


My height in heels

Proves to be a new complication

                         Let us in, let us in

We promise to only drink what you’re offering

                         Let us in, let us in

We promise we’re not addicts; we just get giddy off gin

                          Let us in, let us in

We promise our promises mean nothing/ everything

                                                      (delete where applicable)

Sit down to feast— don’t usually eat on an empty stomach

Sit up, straighten the back, the uninitiated shout ‘let them eat cake’

There’s polarity at the table:

(nonfiction are tall tales;

                                    truth, a self-fuelling circular fable)

Politics/ art/ weather/ news

The wrong choice is always the one we tend to choose

A man in leather asks if we should

                                        ‘kill the host and make hors d’oeuvre from him’

I think this explains why we guests now have our heads in the oven

Gas mark 6, not lit, just hissing

Nine guests, nine heads, one missing

The host is a ghost, gone next door to ring the police

The heat gets me high, my lover says goodbye

Together we all miss coffee and cigars by the pool


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