AS THE COFFEE GREW COLD

This is a poem about treachery and how those people who betray must live their lives. I suppose I had been reading a spy novel or thinking of traitors when I wrote it.

MY MEETING WITH THE STASI

After they left,

he had the time

as the coffee grew cold

to reimagine the interaction,

discount his treachery.

Not that he would ever talk of it

or even let himself dwell on his actions

until the next time they came calling. 

I like how economical it is. My aim always when writing is to remove the superfluous. I just want what is needed there and I think that it works well in this poem.

I don't know much about the Marxist Brothers. I was given a cassette of them years ago and I've always liked their sungara style.

Until next time.