I spilled out of myself yesterday.
It was oral. I mean verbal.

A lot of words strung together,
sometimes coherently.

I made a mess of the cafe table top.
The Cin-O-Bun soaked up a few fragments.

It happened in front of a girl.
Name unknown. Braces tinned her smile.

I cannot determine if she was
a target of opportunity

or simply near the dumping zone,
hazarding collateral damage.

There were plenty of melodramatics
smeared on the table.

The girl flagged down a busboy.
He wiped the table clean as a whistle.

All my spontaneous confessions
now afloat in soapy water,

soon to go down the drain
to the treatment plant for purification.

copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

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