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Jazz, Short Legs, Smoke and Tomatos

The leg on this chair
Is shorter than the others
I wonder, sit forward
Or sit back?
Back, deffinetly back
My current attention
Is on the salt and pepper shakers
Just move them to the left a bit
There..
The buzz of jazz and the
After-taste of sweet
Alcoholic fruit are only
The pretense of background
Strands of smoke
Curling over the bar
Capture my attention
I watch one curling
On itself and floating
Up towards the ceiling
Fluid and languid in its' journey
You scare me out of my skin
When you sit back down
The restroom door still swinging
You mention something
Of more fried tomatos
I lean forward
To confirm the syllables
And then...

I feel my chair lurch
And the short leg
Stomp on the floor

Author notes

this really has no point...
just observations of a dream

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