a diet cola, a bag of fries and thee
by Maria FrancescaThe 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