His smile is backward,
More twisted than the tie around his neck,
And neatly tucked within the lining of a secondhand vest.
A fountain at his back streams and hisses as pop
Music reverberates back along the water.
A friend bounces her leg as they wait.
His date dyed her hair blonde and dropped six pounds
Into his chest after saying that she can’t make it.
Yes, she can.
But not for Connor.
He leans against his palms,
Face pressed to the sky,
And sighs
The ways that he is glad
He got to wear his stupid tie,
Under his stupid smile,
And got to save money on popcorn.
Leave a comment