Sat-is-if-i-cay-shUN
At the bar,
with clinking glass
and dim light
the floor rolls: a deck
on seas of change.
We conspire,
solving present
puzzles and
fashioning
future confections.
We are satisfied
in the moment
then return to
empty rooms,
wishing the tender
could serve one
more
while we
transmute reality
to our will.
8 thoughts on "Sat-is-if-i-cay-shUN"
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I love “the floor rolls: a deck/on seas”
With Shaun on this one: the floor rolls: a deck
on seas of change.
Lots of layers to this poem. Love the conspiring of stanza two! Nicely done.
The title is irresistible
A lot said in few words! I like that deck rolling on the changing sea, too!
you capture the transitory satisfaction of bar banter
Love the conciseness and layers hiding beneath.
” confections.
“We are satisfied
in the moment
then return to
empty rooms,
wishing the tender
could serve one
more”
I keep returning to this moment in your poem. It’s somehow both visceral and ethereal.