SMALL TALK

I must learn to make small talk,

For the world goes that way,

To speak with purpose, not rant, to say,

What people mostly like to hear.

It would be most inappropriate if I launch about

The fireflies, about things I don't understand, I swear,

I will lose out.. if I put in a bout,

Of coffee shops, bookstore, the flower girl, the smell of newsprint, meadows,

How babies smile, cats curl, how roller coaster make me feel, how the face of a dreamer glows.

Hark! They'd rather hear about nothing at all.

Nodding awake politely, masking indifference.

They must pretend they care and I must make small talk.

Must learn to speak about something worldly,

Celestial matters, they disapprove.

I must, I must.

Talk to impress, must talk perfection.

I must reiterate, state what other people said,

They might like if I dwell upon people, and mildly ponder about small events.

Drag it, stretch it. Overdo, and still feign interest.

The rest I get to keep in my head.

To mull over, and revisit.

Such things mustn't be said in public.

I must not to be too emphatic,

On mysteries, the lone car, the beauty of unmindful, fantasies.

Or they'd pass me off as a lunatic.

I better learn conversations that grace coffee tables

Speak as if speaking were a chore, done with intent.

Not linger too much upon the boy on Fifth Avenue, the broken glass or empty canvas.

I can't speak as I think, must sugarcoat somewhat, decorate as I say.

Restate, re-speak. Reiterate.

They find comfort in the ordinary; choose to go with the flow.

They fear marvel, awed by curiosity, too afraid to speak to displease.

The more beautiful thought I get to keep,

Covert, in the crevasses of the mind.

I must, must, must entertain,

Pretend to be sane,

And so I must master small talk.

                                                                                                         

The writer is a student of North South University.