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Assurances | A Poem by Guy Farmer

A group of men converge; a raucous
Interplay of competing smiles and
Fables. Towels snapping, quips
Flying, one-upmanship obligatory,
Manic talking, absent listening,
The rustling of business cards being
Exchanged on the fly with
Assurances earnestly attached.

I’ll call you soon, we ought to get
Together for lunch, I like what you’re
Doing, that’s interesting. The phone
Lays silent at his side, unringing,
Unblinking. Useless. A sour
Reminder of broken promises,
Confidences offered in jest. Lack of
Depth, sincerity, meaning.

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