Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Live Fast For The Moment Is Fleeting

The overhead projector in the back
Of the red, four-door compact,
Missing three of its ten transparencies;
What was a ten-point plan
Now down to seven.
The overhead's thrown to the front,
Among several pocket notebooks
Filled with scribbles.
He says he likes the simplicity
And human messiness
That is preserved
Through the analog keeping of information.
One brain with many tools,
Instead of two brains in symbiosis:
Human and the machine. He says,
There is too much room for error.
But, in reality it's just a frugal budget
Keeping him afloat poor,
In the four-door compact
With his tools of the trade.

She takes in the view
As well as him.
He told her he gave speeches
And presentations
Teaching people
About a better life.
Where he keeps his things,
She keeps child seats
And a bag full of snacks,
Band aids, and moist cloths.
She saw similarities
In the fact that they both
Were lecturers in their own right.

By the time they had ended
The clouds had moved
Exposing the orange orb
Of the Moon.
There was nothing magical,
They had met at a bar.
And in jest of the situation
She profoundly spoke
Over the soft sounds of a hat
Adorned with bells,
"The problem with love poems:
They're more about the idea
Than the subject."

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