She wanted to say hey
but said hi instead
stilted; formal
less animated—more dead
her sarcasm was misread.
And so they entered the vacuum of Usual Things
“talked” about airplanes, cumulus clouds
compared cell phone rings
this was easy, meaningless
a novel start
throw in the word dichotomy
and you’ll sound smart
tilt your chin now, easy
up and down
bear those teeth please—but not so cheeky
more pageant queen, less clown
“I read Thomas Pynchon. And drink tea from recycled lids.”
“I have tons of friends. We make Memories That I’ll Tell My Kids.”
They will trade dimples, swap awkward high-fives
and each night they’ll chant like clockwork
This is the best part of our lives
(and yet)
“I love that movie”
“Yeah, it’s my favorite as well”
they lap up their crude connection
and everything is vacuous but swell
she will change her outfit eleven times
scoffing at ugg boots
humming radiohead rhymes
he will get drunk charming obnoxious
lose his keys, his qualms, his tollbooth dimes
and after the pencil shavings, the photographs
the cheap bottles of wine
they’ll call home and say
“I’m fine”