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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463737" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In The Bistro</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463737" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Valentine's day just a few days off<br>it was charming how after a hefty meal<br>of coq au vin and greasy frites<br>and wine enough to raddle a pancreas</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463737" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">you shot that loaded straw my way<br>me leaving, from your battery behind<br>the bar. Harmlessly the paper slip fluttered by<br>filled, assassin, with the breath of your lips, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463737" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">before coasting to rest on the floor-<br>well before that fine day when Loves'<br>dart burns the air, seeking a warm breast<br>in which to rest and germinate song.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463737" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Discretely, though it was late and diners<br>few, I stopped, picked it up, flattened it out<br>drew it under my nose as though it were<br>a rose, a scented billet doux, and dropped it</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463737" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">on the counter back to you who merely<br>bent far, far back and shook and shook<br>darkly with gallic laughter. The gall! <br>graceful, turncoat scion of pig-farmers.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463737" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Outside I smiled in the cold that turned<br>huffy exhalations into cirrhus wreathes, <br>that prank having warmed my bones to the ruddy core-<br>We are all just peasants with degrees, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463737" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">and vowed, the coming holy day night, to return<br>armed with a dozen straws or so to make of mine <br>enemy a laughing porcupine, my memory<br>for these vendettas only long, but that's about it.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Morgan+Michaels">Morgan Michaels</a></strong></div>

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