they move in slowly
as if shortening the leash
thinking of something
willing to say anything
but really, saying nothing
armed with breath mints
swished in tartar
(masking the putrid subtext)
politely lifting the edges of their mouths
"lips in the upright and locked position"
courteously remaining
commonly regurgitating
purging yesterday's drama
feasting on today's melancholy
toasting tomorrow's resentment
upper middle class men
cigars in one hand
in the other boxed wine
pouring like champagne
gaggles of privileged women
comparing diamonds and furs
feasting eyes on the gold plated cutlery
never daring to eat with it
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