Got your two bottles
A different store every day
Not that anyone cares
But you need to keep up appearances
Maybe buy some nuts too
Make them think some friends are coming by
Even though the only friends you have
Are those bottles in that bag
And they don't care who knows
That tonight they're your lover
And tomorrow they'll be gone
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A good poem communicates universally and this does. Yeah, maybe you think I am just always going to say I like what you write. Not true. I have all kinds of faults but I am honest, sometimes too honest.
This really is very good. There is this scene in a Margaret Drabble novel when the main character buys a rack of lamb because she wants to cook it and she pretends she is cooking for a bunch of people, pretending in her head if I remember correctly because well, who would notice really and yet her loneliness and her shame and inability to figure out what to do with it prompt her to that charade for oneself. I am not comparing the event in this poem to that, but the feeling...this just reminded me of that and of some of my own experiences that I will spare you from hearing about, Rambler (though you don't really ramble).
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