He flicked the tip of his cigarette
into a crystal ashtray—a wry object,
he thought—and continued:
"People believe the most
expensive sentences they read,
wanting to know what's inside
every single parakeet and canary,
what's happening in the past,
in apricot nectar, and in Barbie's Dream
Machine." The other guests nodded.
One woman's steely bob swung
forward and backward
with each movement
of her head, mesmerizing him.
"Now, we turn to strategy instead
of chopsticks," she said. "It's consistent,
it's complicated, clean and direct,
its everything to everyone."
A moment of silence
as twelve wineglasses were raised,
as the scent of sophisticated
pondering filled the room, like lilies
on a hot day. A flushed, jovial man
proposed a toast: "Do the right thing.
Sign up—there's no reason not to!"
The hostess sighed. Not for a moment
had the gentle tapping
of her fingernail on the table
been interrupted.
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
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