Confession Over Mexican Dinner in a New Orleans Cafe
Well for once we were in the same time zone
When I invited you to join me for dinner
Though half the height of a continent lay
Flat between us. So you demurred, allowed
That you doubted we could find a midway
Point we would each find comfortable
To reach.
And briefly, I thought of St. Louis
Whose monumental arching transcendence
Mocked my remembrance of us
With its knowing the truth of your doubt.
How, for want of a midway we could never find,
we will still be owing the other
Some long postponed dance
When the music fades and dies.
Ever insensate to the rhythm
of the opposing soul.
Ever wishing burritos and beer
Paired well with a decent dessert.