The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by David Danoff
Reception
There’s nothing in the chafing trays but meat;
the temperature is rising by degrees; the room is full of people I should meet. For many, this is what they call a treat: coolers of beer, and pyramids of cheese, and nothing in the chafing trays but meat. The people clump together, smile, and greet, and touch, and nod, and stand and shoot the breeze. The room is full of people I should meet but don’t—I don’t—I’m frozen on my feet, and feel the numbness rising past my knees, and nothing more. The chafing trays of meat are popular: so many hands compete to pluck the choicest morsels. Should I squeeze across the room of people I should meet I know that no one’s hand will reach for me, moving like a shadow through the trees. The room is full of people I should meet. There’s nothing in the chafing trays but meat. Copyright 2006-2012 by Cook Communication |