Square Peg

1 November 2015

I spent my twenties writing stories, trying
to wait tables. I waited tables like
Rabelais and Orwell wrote of shagging—
unconvincingly. I’d not aspired

to waiting tables. I waited tables like
Pollock juggling scotch bottle and dentist drill—
catastrophically. I’d not aspired
to moussing innocent bystanders: they watched

Pollock juggling scotch bottle and dentist drill
transfixed, as if he were intending
to mousse innocent bystanders: they dodged
lap-slop horrors that defied dry-cleaning

transfixed, as if I was intending
(as Rabelais and Orwell wrote of shagging)
to let slip horrors that defied dry-cleaning:
I spent my twenties writing stories, trying.

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