The fish in the pond

W Florence

Ammass at the kitchenette

Smoking sigarettes

Prosecco Negroni

Here comes the food

The waiters elbow their way

To the important guests

Risotto bowls

And mini burgers

Hands reach for the trays

And music is terrible

As my mindset, foul.

The redhead slanders me

But the drinks ease the trigger

Of being owned, and ornamental

As the rather ungraceful hands

Like carps in the villa pond

Piling and swirming for popcorn

Feed for status matters.

The vanity of servitude

Middle class and middle aged party treats

I am the moral hand of the enemy

The fucking backdrop though…

Early night either way

Walking out

First world problems

I enter the pub

And to feel freer

Exert my purchasing power

A pint and a bag of *crisps*

And the music is terrible, again.

Freaky rocker at the bar, jaded

I nurse myself

Half pint there

Exit for a smoke

The utilities sales rep

Offers his bargain

Drunk, and funnily enough

-redhead

Neapolitan

Abstraction of life

The only war worth fighting

Is the evident hilarity

The lighthearted, whitewashed

Lack of responsibility

And unwavering life goals

That make life interpretable as one big comedy

As it all fades without a shower.