A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
She nodded twice, although she knew
that half his stories weren’t true.
For her part, she as good as lied,
by choosing to politely hide
her boredom and distaste, which grew
as he tossed back another brew
and flexed his lurid snake tattoo.
The waitress asked her, “Steamed or fried?”
She nodded twice.
He bragged—while slurping lobster stew—
about his BMW,
his startup that had gone worldwide,
his hole-in-one. They ate; she sighed.
And when he asked her, “Are we through?”
she nodded twice.
Jean L. Kreiling’s poems have appeared in numerous print journals, e-zines, and anthologies. She was the winner of the 2011 Able Muse Write Prize for Poetry, and has been a finalist for the Dogwood Poetry Prize, the Frost Farm Prize, and the Howard Nemerov Sonnet Award.