Cocktails

‘Lovely party’, she said
though she did not mean a word.
‘Yes indeed’, came the retort
with equal misstep of truth.
Inner deafness had not heard.

Both did nibble at the little snack
without being able to identify
what sea creature it was
surrendered so snugly under batter.
Then of course, it would hardly matter.

Luscious looking olive on stick
did catch his eye
but he only has two hands
and so he passed it by.

Another sip he took
and wondered what to say
when she softly called attention
to the lady dressed in grey
wearing awful brooch of pink
who somehow had three
husbands. He took another drink.

The man across the way
wearing floral tie
apparently has cancer
and is about to die.

Then snacks are thrust before
them and he sees his chance to fly
to find another victim for some
empty chatter. Why not, no one
really knows anyone else in the room
and he still has not discovered what
is within the batter. Perhaps of course,
it’s true, it does not really matter.

A glass is chinked, attention called
a speech will now be made
in eloquent but empty words
that are in truth so staid
that all the party nibbles on
and drinks the cups to dregs
while hosts of fashion waitrons
stand around like lifeless pegs
and wonder what its all about.

Even they don’t know
the meaning of the chatter,
what’s beneath the batter
or whether, in truth, it does
or does not really matter.

It’s time to go, party’s done
smiles all round
another day has passed
and all the nibbling,
idle chat
induced a kind of fast
of decent truth
time well spent
and restful slumber too
it was a kind of waste
of time, like visit
to some ill placed zoo.

However,
it was not
parakeet or budgerigar
parrot or cockatoo.
It was a cocktail party
that I introduced you to!