two new best friends

the two new best friends

went marching near the band.

a man holding his rifle watched

as they blew kisses,

fondling the air left hanging between their lips.

a salute without a glass,

yet the glass was half-full somewhere out of sight.

they two were from different countries

but they shared a border and a common enemy,

so it was assumed.

the assumption followed them to the conference table

eventually, to a grand meal:

they digested points of view

they drank in strategies and weapon systems

they regurgitated ideas for world hegemony

they ate lemon meringue pie

they listened to translators

translating

over a fine dinner

with Chinese teacups!

Toasts!!

the hot bravado

was wearing nothing but a bare white chest:

the world listened

ears were bent

sounds fell to the ground quietly

where a damp puddle smothered their good vibrations

and then the dust settled once again.