The Lostness Of All Of Us
there were three of us in the room
you could not forget that Meryl look-alike
transvestite (who did not mind your coming) and
this oozing-sex-appeal bra-less (not brainless) law student
who was spongy on the
receptive mode of
a listener,
i sat on a bench wearing my black shirt from Singapore
(perhaps for want of a little sophistication
with the motive of making myself distinct from those
local brands)
this shallow conceit that is
tucking that book in Evidence
earmarked on the subject of judicial notice
you forgot obviously to comb your hair, but the plunging neckline
saved you from
the humiliation of neglect,
upon a little flair for
fashion and
taste but it was sheer honesty
(and i admire you for that)
when you finally declared that
you are lost.
whatever that means, figuratively or literally
i am telling you,
you are never alone in all these.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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