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Jonathan ROBIN

(22 September / London)

Dining Out

Juxtaposition of some strangers bent
At table, stretched across lit midnight hour.
Crass surface chit-chat. Artificial flower.
Kaleidoscope social experiment.
Spiralling smoke-ring roundels’ stuffy scent,
Airing ephemera, in-greed-[s]ense sour.
No potent notions could this potion power
Draw deep from urban[e] melting-pot which lent
Just stale approximations to present
Inept platitudes, de[s]sert tale dour.
Lies left each locked behind moat, drawbridge tower.
Little attempt at outreach argument.
Some spite, some superficial chatter which
Together scarce deserved this sonnet’s stitch.

Submitted: Sunday, October 29, 2006
Edited: Sunday, August 25, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

(9 November 1992 revised 9 October 2005 and 25 August 2013)

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