THAT TIME WE MET

 

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GOOD THINGS ...
THAT TIME WE MET
R.E.M.
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THAT TIME WE MET.

  Thanks for meeting with me.

I liked the café.

A jukebox!

There was a mermaid on my drinks coaster.

 

She wasn't the only wet one.

 

Humid and sweaty under a slow rotating fan.

Small talk.

Rain.

 

You took 8 seconds between a blink

once.

I counted the time

with my foot

as we listened to your jukebox song.

 

When I was waiting for you

at table 2

I had time

to unwind

my tangled Ipod earphone cord and tangled life

and wonder

why

we

met.

 

After you left

I knew.

  

Just good things.

 

I have a confession to make.

 

The straw

that you sipped your drink with?

I kept it!

White with orange stripes.

 

Imagining

some day

we'd meet

again.

 

Candy-coated dreams.

 

There we are during my 8 second blinks.

 

Sometimes it's a television advertisement.

Us.

The jukebox and fan and table 2.

Our song.

The mermaid coaster.

Your straw.

You.

 

Working our way towards each other

from opposite ends of a long piece of spaghetti.

The director says "cut!"

We don't.

 

I call a friend to chat about it

the next day.

“Oohs” and “Aaahs”

for a retrospective

of a future

long

since

nonexistent.

Copyright © 2008 Richard Cannane Publishing
03. Mai 2013