So Poem by Morgan Michaels

So



So, what's it gonna' be...

I waited patiently, stubby pencil in hand.

'...chicken or fish? '


She was planning a dinner party, the magnificent woman-

'Um...um...why not both? Oh, and we need some candles...put those down.'

'ok...both, ' I wrote, 'chicken and fish'. Just who are these people you're inviting?

'Just a bunch of diplomats. Oh, and flowers, but I'll get those.'

'Diplomats? What kind? ' I wondered.

'I don't know, whatever's not on sale', she said, absently. 'But there's only one kind of diplomat. You'd best be going. They'll be here in six hours.'

I rose to go.

'And the salad? ' I remembered.

'What about it? , she asked, tying on an apron.

'What kind? '

'Mista.'

'Yes, sir, ' I saluted, and left.

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