Mick’s Manners


her eyes all full of martini kindness
congruent with slurred smile tilted sideways
with deep sadness.        blue as her gin bottle
and just as watery,   her eyes beg kind
words or a friendly gesture.          never one
to take advantage,   mick shrugs indifference
while sporting her a drink out of polite
apathy and self-preservation.          she
mistakes his manners for something nicer,
warm palm and chill fingers rested on his
levi-clad jeans as she bends his ear to
whisper salacious gratitude   —   words
she thinks a man wants to hear.          mick’s exit
wounds,   but it’s nothing she isn’t used to.

David M Pitchford
3 September 2012

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