By Ben Smith
She says:
“Ben, that’s not
how you wash
your hands;
I heard you
and you just swished
them around
under cold water;
What are you going
to teach your children?”
For a moment I’m
dazed and as she turns
away to walk out side
I call her
Back.
“D’Arne, D’Arne!
Aren’t you going
To answer me?”
I yell.
Flustered and annoyed
she says:
“You didn’t
even ask me a question,
you dick,
you just stood there
and started singing
crying in the
chapel.”
I ask her
what her question was
but its too far
beyond that
now.
Clutching at Straws 