A Conversation At A Corner Table Poem by Theresa Garces

A Conversation At A Corner Table



"How do you feel? "

He waited a few seconds while I stared into my glass, trying to remember the question. The waitress walked by again. She was wearing Keds. I didn't even know they still made those. I gave up.

"What? "

"How do you feel about it? "

"It's like when you haven't seen a fly in so long that you forget what they act like, and then all of a sudden one gets trapped in your room while you're trying to sleep. It keeps landing on your wrist. Every time you close your eyes. And you're left wondering what can be done with this tiny black demon that keeps moving around the room, buzzing in your ear, and tickling the hairs on your arm. You throw a pillow at it-nothing. Until finally you decide that nothing can be done and you resign yourself to a pair of earbuds and a pull of the comforter over your face."

"Oh…"

"Yeah."

He looked confused. "Wait. So did you respond? "

I looked back down into my glass. "No. Of course I didn't respond."

Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: real
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
1 / 9
Theresa Garces

Theresa Garces

Montebello, California
Close
Error Success