misunderstanding flows, like beer on tap
and as we drink it down, pint after pint
all reason is spilled onto the table, wiped up by the dirty bar mop
that stinks of yesterdays brew
the proprietor of this establishment
stands at counter, smiling his knowing smile
that sadness in his eyes which can only come
from seeing pantomimes like this one play out before him
on every night of his long, long career
--bruised orange
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