Taking Me To The Red Car

Folding inwards towards the traffic
On these stacks, the intersection between each approach.
Scripted angry silences, reassuring phrases, uninvited compliments
The good black-filled space, quite announced, and welcomed.

Their carefully settled uninvolved props,
Walking out, extras on lunch with their own dishes
The coffee shouldered with a wrinkled grin

Above red dark pleasantries and stares
Each into place.

Michael Arnold