The Gargoyle on D Street
Ladies night blossomed out of a need
for camaraderie and a safe place
to unload the week’s fault-finding
by spouses and significant others.
In other words, an Ivy League
bitch session deeper than the violet
walls that surrounded them.
They’d chosen this coffee shop called Gargoyle,
the one that surrounded them with deep
indelible purples, plush amethyst chairs,
mulberry table cloths with fringe. They felt safe
in layers of risqué calm, mildly alcoholic drinks
and the license to burn their mates’ underwear
in an open fire pit in the center of the room.
There would be no solutions here,
but a calm resolve to “stick to guns,” figuratively
and to “speak truth to power.”
Not one of the ladies truly hated her mate.
No one was divorced or even separated.
They knew what they wanted
and what they wanted to keep.
They accepted their privileged lives—
they hadn’t been born in a third world
country, after all. They recognized the clash of wills
for what it was—love ever after.
They didn’t even need reassurance,
they’d chosen their mates wisely. They just needed
a purple, padded wall to pound now and again.
And the mirror of each other.
Diane M. Laboda believes poesy is as essential as breathing. She’s published poetry, short stories, and articles in Crash online literary magazine, Third Wednesday literary journal, Rat’s Ass Review online poetry journal, 3rd place poetry in 2010 and 2011 Current Magazine, WCC’s Washtenaw Voice, The Huron River Review issues 1-15, Blood Orange, The Big Windows Review, and Poetry Club anthologies. She has published two chapbooks, Facing the Mirror and This Poet’s Journey, and is working on her first book-length collection of poetry.
If you published books of poetry, I would buy them all. Love this in its simultaneous simplicity and depth. Such precision I admire!
LikeLike
Or should I say, where can I buy?
LikeLike