“A poem about nothing but has to be about something”
Walking down the city street.
“Where are you?”
“what are you doing?”
“5th and 32nd street please”,
“May I please have the number?”
“no I can not” sure see you then?”
“What do you mean?
“What time is the meeting?”
“yes”, “ok” “no problem”
“Taxi “
“Get out of here yaw bum”
“I need the keys”
“Bread, milk, beer, soup”
“Which park?”
“I have to go now”
“Hello anybody there?”
“Take a right and then a left”
‘Whatever you think”
“What do you want”
“Tell him I am out of the office”
“No Harry not you”
“Meet me at he bar on 42nd”
“Have it gift wrapped?”
How many did you say?”
“I was not there!”
“It broke OMG”
“Yeas dear”
“I know already , give it a rest”
“Click clack”
“Creak”
The door slams behind
and silence fills the room.
Lasla Moore 2008