Rendezvous

We are at it again
Sitting on cushioned chairs,
Wasting our breath with words
We would gladly exchange for peanuts on another day,

We throw words at each other,
But not like the child who throws
The marbles he has lost in disgust,
Not even quite like the lizard
Who forks out its tongue at the passing fly,
What do we know of being desperate?
Fate has spared us, unworthy us,

We begin to taunt and tease each other,
A cacophony tempting enough for Mr. Boredom
In his ironed suit to say “Decorum please”,

We having exhausted those devices now,
Look at each other with timorous eyes
Reflecting our empty faces,

We sidestep from our glances to look up
At the afternoon sun,
That can’t quite collapse to freedom,
From its daily “to do” rounds over “to go” places
Infested with “to be” men.

20/8/2007