at a dinner party
in Pittsburg
holding the knife
in her left hand
fork in her right
so european
she glares at him
french vinaigrette dripping
from the mesclun
on the tines pointing down
the wrong way
- Can’t you take anything seriously?
his lamb is rare
the plate red-rimmed
“Feel my cheek -
the smoothness
look at the tissue -
blood specked bulls-eye
on my neck…
then tell me I’m not taking this seriously.”
From Weakdays, Corrupt Press
R L Raymond 