The Uptown Writers' Rectangular Table

Spartan imitation of the Algonquin--
Papered table, paper napkins,
Metal chairs on tilty tiles--
Is it worth even mentioning this rabble-gabble?
The volubles frothed and held court
As volubles do;
The quiet ones listened or despaired;
The Asian at the antipodal end
(An Arctic frost there--Antarctic here)
Communed with her cellphone.
Elbow-to-elbow isolation . . . So what is the point?
The wannabes and the already-beens
Were thrown together, and as in a
Murder mystery,
Our true identities were as yet undiscovered.
Fully baked wits and freshly hatched newts
In need of encyclopedias
Scraped surfaces. Perhaps some polish
Rubbed off one and brightened the other's nose,
But I had little to offer:
Being wholly idiosyncratic,
I can't relate. And so as bubbles
In a cheap spumante
Rise and burst and arise anew,
We were swept along in a honeyed flow,
A delectable stream of attribute stacking,
Overfarmed tropes, adjective parsing,
And character analysis.