I would rather be drinking
in Dublin, with women who run
naked through shopping malls
or with men who do
nothing.

But i’m here with you
you’re drinking, i’m water.
i’m lonely
and you could give less
of a shit.

You’re glancing up skirts
and i’m looking for eyes
that have a tint
of green, or maybe
a deep chocolate brown.

I’ll daydream, you’ll yawn
and i’ll pretend like i’m walking
into a room
where they all know my name

an elegant evening,
not elegant
you’re old.

this is impertinence
in the face of a child