Atmospheric Pressure
when you agreed to come
you were told that not many people would be here
you were told that no one you knew would show
you were told a lot of things
but now, as the door opens &
in you walk, hand in hand with your chosen
manipulator,
s/he smiles at the crowd that clings to their every word
like some politician whose dirty past hasn’t been drudged up yet
&
all you want is outta here
all you want is a quiet place where you can chill---
still,
personality after personality
come up to you, as if you had every intention of joining them this evening
as if you were happy to be here
as if you wanted to talk with them
as if you yourself found them to be
deep
thinkers
whose lives did not revolve around their careers or the people they were
****ing,
hmmm, but alas, as the dust has settled
the charade shows its ugly little face &
that is all that anyone has to talk about
that is all anyone here really does,
but there is the beer & there is the wine,
with a few crazy rascals out back smokin’ doobies
hopin’ their significant others don’t walk in
to pick up the leash & drag em’ on home
good lil’ doggies
every single one of em’
arf arf arf!---
as it all fades in on itself
growing stale & ever more non-threatening
the pressure to bolt becomes horrendous
because any time wasted on this planet
resounds tremendously
again & again, and
it will haunt you later
like your own personal gong in your head
reminding you of this place &
this evening
you wish you could forget.
Copyright © Andrew Delapruch | Year Posted 2012
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