I Was Drinking With The Engineers On Friday Night


(A Silicon Valley Tale)

This guy with sweaty eyelids, breathless
girl appended (wide smile, red smile, shiny sternum, ribcage
expanding, contracting, expanding, contracting) came
up to our table

(he had grown a thin mustache--
he was young and slim, he was
smiling broadly and it felt like summer, Friday
night) he asked
me

would I wield his costly
jet-black Nikon
with the LEDs and
compound coated achromatic lens?

I was

the only one, drinking
with the Engineers, lacking
offset business card, white rectangular
affirmation, declaration
"Engineer," so I
hesitated but

I was

the only
man drinking at the table
so I said, hell
yes.



JDP 97/09


Copyright John D Porter © 1997



[List of Poems]