Afternoon Tea With The Bourgeoisie

I
had not seen her for a year
She sat
a sad little broken bird
emaciated and alone
She will not be with us for long
I
animatedly performed party tricks
making her laugh
her eyes downcast in the intervals

I
wanted to put my arms around her
weep and hold her
a completely unacceptable notion
for an anglo bourgeoise gathering
I didn't
Of Course!

The chat progressed down a more serious lane
of funeral arrangements,her daughter,her cat
My head reeling trying to digest
all of this and appear
Sane

While my heart was being ripped out of my chest
Knowing
that she would take that ferry across the Styx
without God
I wanted to run home as fast as I could
Hide
under the fur rug
Hang on to China
Not emerge until spring
But I don't
Of Course!