Tuesday, March 08, 2005

The Spoke Club and a Shopping Cart

There is a line-up around
the corner to use the elevator.
Three floors, but the stairs are
locked. Put your drinks on my
card, a publisher says.
Another: I dont want to sound racist,
but I've never met
a Newfoundlander I didnt like.
The night is young, I say.
There's a woman turning forty
and another turning sixty.
It seems everyone is turning
a solid number this year.
The forties are the best decade,
she says. Youre still young, yet
you feel mature -- and everything
still works.
On my way down in the elevator
the last woman of the evening
picks up a quarter I've dropped.
That's a shopping cart
at Loblaw's, she says. She
is, I know, a millionaire.

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