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