joey k poetry

the music is too loud,
nobody can hear each other.

i know five of the eleven people
that are sitting about the table.
nobody is interesting.
the espresso martini is good,
more espresso than martini
but it’s the only acceptable
way for someone to order coffee
at an upscale Manhattan restaurant.
in a stroke of stupidity or genius
i drove into the city, didn’t take the train.
this time being on the bridge
wasn’t so bad.

the music is too loud
and nobody is interesting.

a beautiful blonde woman
sits across the table
after the first course.
for a lifetime i was lost
staring and remembering
everything beautiful
i’d ever seen that she rendered null.
her features were sharp
like a runway model made to order.
she orders an amaretto sour
in an accent that i don’t recognize.
it sounds like German mixed with Brooklyn.
two glasses of wine are poured
and she and her CEO looking partner
toast to their love.

the music is too loud
to hear how she intonates her words.

in a moment she changes
from the beautiful goddess
into the normal everyday person
by spilling her water all over me,
by apologizing with a pained smile
she becomes more human than
any of the faces that surround me.

nobody is interesting
except her.

now she’s fighting with the server.
apparently the food took too long
(her man had already finished
and she hadn’t gotten her food).
she’s making a whole fuss
about how rude it is
to make someone wait so long.
she’s just another face to the server,
her night is ruined, the server will be fine.
now that i’ve seen her fully,
she isn’t so beautiful after all.

the music is too loud,
and nobody is interesting.