Greeted by a man and a woman;
hands turn to plastic and glass.
She and he are as stiff, as synthetic
as I had hoped not to be.
Marked and lined,
scored and stricken,
with expectation, unheard;
ignored.
Linguistically perfect
they trip fall slip, into words
neither meant
neither intended.
Bitten by a teeth-filled smile
unmarked,
unencumbered
by a life’s savings.
Freer now, freer to revolt
against reviled fortune:
Unfavoured or unfavourable
Measured, if not inconceivable.
He looks at her,
she at him, smiling
(grimacing?) as their hands turn again.
To Glass. To Plastic.
Book of Pye 