The last party (Trivial Pursuit)
The last party
(Trivial Pursuit)
She was in the room glowing
a smile on her face
she should have talked to me
or looked at me
Her boyfriend sat across from her
like a cardboard cutout
he should have been alive
or at least awake
another room awaits
autonomous
bordered by sounds
of new wave existence
friends reach out
alcohol people
a swirl of support
a backdrop of goodness
yellow light flickers
orange perfume clusters about
purple music masks the crowded voices
the little dog scurries
moves with short stubby legs
strawberries sit too long
a phantom plays monotonous percipitations
the game continues
to begin anew
the dice is the leader
the cards are finite
time wanders in a trivial pursuit
following the strewn clothes of lovers in transit
drinks stir, soaking the carpets
choices are made to apologize for chance
time beckons in a trivial pursuit
bubbles of memory
pockets of pain
seasons stacked up, circling to land
time chases in a trivial pursuit
paths are lost forever
relationships crumble from the motion
happiness dies countless deaths
time hates itself in its trivial pursuit
it shoulders the consequences of the fear and grief it spreads
it loses its identity
and is crushed by its existence
colors darken into empty shapes
taste and smell congeal
sounds form into thickening twisted knots
a dog scurries
apparitionally
alone in sympathy
it cannot understand
arms of activity
limitless ferment
dancing in madness
fleeing from feelings
this room is silent
solid and isolated
occupied at times
by present and past
Her boyfriend sat across from her
and he once had been me
He should have been happy
He should have stayed
She was in his life glowing
a blessing of emotion
He should have understood her
or at least communicated
the game never finishes
its motion won’t subside
but its pretense fools the wise
and traps all
forever
the morning rises
timidly, relunctantly
its features are grey
from the last party
— Zumwalt (1985)
zumpoems 