Diorama Smile

One night long ago

Back in the days when

we, oh so innocent,

Flitted hither and tither

And

breathed on each other

with abandon,

I ran into a woman

I’d not seen in forever

because our friendship 

had Hinged 

solely on the coincidence

of our respective uteri

concurrently incubating

then spawning 

1990 babies who happened

to attend the same schools

we had very different

parenting styles

she made her son’s

Elementary school

science fair dioramas

for him

I KNOW SHE DID!

My son

when it came to

dioramas

did not interpret 

the assignment as

did his peers whom,

pressed to ape a

neighborhood building

in miniature

all smooched butt

with their little churches

and wee fire stations

Not my kid

Honey, he shrunk

The beer store

So obviously 

Now that our boys

Were moved away men

We had

You know

Lost touch

But here she was

Now before me

And she says

How are you

And then

Before she can

Pitch up to a question mark

Breaks into a cruel

stewardess smile

And adds

Oh never mind

I see your social media

I know everything about you

Oh really?

I want to ask her

Do you know

I aspire to be

A secular Finster?

Do you know I have

A passion for

Doing maths

In the shower

And also

In cemeteries?

And that I love cemeteries?

And adding s to math

Even though I know 

It’s pretentious

Because did you also know

I’m an Anglophile 

Thanks mostly

To a guy who was 

Born in Turkey?

Did you know all that?

I didn’t think so.

Instead I match her

Fake smile

With one of my own

Only smaller

Way smaller

My diorama smile

And I say

How’s your son?

Mostly because

I can’t wait to 

Tell her about mine