The Date

by Jane Blanchard 

You’ve seen them, too—
the cute young couple
sitting in a booth
at a restaurant,
usually a chain.
He’s on one side,
wearing a baseball cap,
double-fisting a too-thick sandwich,
neglecting his napkin.
She’s on the other,
talking to her phone,
gazing at her nails,
pausing only for a French fry,
giving as little as she gets.

Jane Blanchard divides her time between Augusta and Saint Simon’s Island, Georgia. Her work has recently appeared in Carbon Culture Review, Mezzo Cammin and Tar River Poetry. This poem was previously published in James Dickey Review 28.2 (Spring/Summer 2012). 

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