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January 20, 2022

The Blonde at the Piano

snowy night starry bright but not too cold
we were all in the elegant parlor of the mayor’s home
snooty velvet looking curtains with furniture

that looked like it wasn’t meant to be sat on

but we did anyway

listening to an up and coming young pianist

dressed in red spaghetti strap dress 

flowing blonde curls falling on her creamy shoulders

she was a real beauty and she could play 

passionate enough to melt a polar glacier 

she was supposedly playing a piece by Rachmaninov 

I say supposedly because I like Rachmaninov 

and know a lot of music of Rachmaninov 

but I’d never heard of it; but it did sound Rachmaninovish

so I presumed that it was and I was not enlightened to it

the evening went on…I started thinking of us as a couple 

like there was any chance that could happen

me writing my poetry and her practicing her scales

and practicing and practicing and practicing 

I was wondering if we’d ever have any time to go

to the movies, restaurants, or take long walks on the beach

then I remembered dating an aspiring model 

‘dating’ would be an exaggeration 

she had to get plenty of sleep

didn’t want to be in the sun (I was fine with that)

carefully watched what she ate and when 

worked out-got plenty of exercise 

went to modeling jobs

which left little time for anything else really

but she did have a nice personality 

so I let her down easy (LOL)