I Had Nothing To Say To The Painter Poem by Raj Dronamraju

I had nothing to say to the painter
Exchanged words with a cripple
Awkward silence with the musician

But had spontaneous free flowing conversation with a welder
His nose was criss-crossed with great big veins
If he liked something that was said, he made a choking gesture with both hands as if wringing the neck of a goose

And the grocery store check-out lady who must been in her mid to late 50's and had cigarette voice, croaky and out of breath, flirted with me and phlegm laughed
At the time, she was at least a couple decades older than me but it gave her a thrill to talk to me in this manner

I am living somewhere due south of the North Pole
And I hope to keep it that way
The sculptor wiped the clay off his hands
He looked irritated while he did it as if he was wiping off the cumulative desires of the working man

I am living somewhere where the top doesn't freeze
And I hope to keep it that way
I met a fellow poet
She critiqued the way I dressed and spoke in expensive brand names
Nothing close to poetry came out of her mouth