The music doesn't swell here.
The breeze doesn't suddenly pick up
and ruffle my hair just so.
There's no magical twinkle in your eye.
The air is not redolent
with lilacs or honeysuckle.

There's just you and me
and an old Buick
in a burger joint drive-thru.

You're no Romeo
and I am sure as hell
no Juliet

and I like that just fine

because after all that talk
of roses and devotion
they both ended up
deader than doornails

which leaves the two of us free
to share this bag of fries.

12/10/2005