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poetry

The life of a single diner

The odd friend-date next to me
The harried host
The strange character to my left;
also a single diner, but should I break the veil?

The barflies: of interest and the subtle dance of sex
The waitstaff: present and attentive but akin to background noise

Tourists and gawkers and
Restaurant Week visitors and
Theatre-goers

Midway through I make an offer, one
I would never consider when with a
Date or friends
To give up my table
To move to the bar after seeing a
Twosome turned away for lack of
Unreserved space — was I a bother?

The waitress, bless her heart
Offended at the thought
No, I was to stay
To continue my quiet evening.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

November 2013
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