(D) “THE ANGEL AT MY TABLE”

Excerpts from the diary of Max Ray (1995)


Poised pen
Breakfast at seven
Waitress Women
Passing by me
Morning coffee
French toast
Immaculate tablecloth
Oatmeal roast


And then I see her with her emerald pies
And thousand island eyes
She gives me Word Salad
Dressed in an olive and honey gown
She just glanced at me
And I just looked down


The Angel at that table-
Her smile lingers for a second too long
And then that gaze
Maybe I should stop writing and go up to her
But what would she say?
Should I just walk away?


Excerpts from the diary of Winnie (1995)


Finally
That Wes Anderson look-alike (and that can’t be bad)
After a dozen or so
Stolen glances
Is walking over here
This should be something


Generic Greeting
Generic Greeting accepted and reverted
What’re we supposed to do?
Silence
You just said silence. It doesn’t make any sense
Interesting conversation follows
Romantic notions persist


Emerald eyes
Beehive hair
Motor mouth
Dulcet voice
Small talk
Wrong adjectives
Bellhop bowtie
I observe


And I think:
‘Do you do this regularly? Hang out with strangers?’
And I realize that I don’t
He must be quite something then
“Think of a number between one and ten
It could be love, if it is seven”
“It must be fate, I said
It was a six“
“We were almost there”
He’s such a romantic
A Catcher in the rhyme
If only…..