Hemingway’s mustache
last night at the bar, chatting
she had your name
which seemed about right
for me, a new kind of conversation
the weight of which
depended
from some romcom screenplay
with younger actors
meanwhile on stage everyone is so
self-aware
struggling
to deliver the wit were promised
in the program notes
she said at 30 she feels she must
focus
that it’s too late to reinvent herself
I laugh, say at 39 focus still
eludes me
she grew up in Plains, Montana
a tiny
misnamed
mountain town
I think of the screenplay again
of course that’s how they’d cast it
back on stage they’re blindfolded
pinning cut-out mustaches
on Ernest Hemingway
it’s as easy as that
after all
14 September 2012
New York City
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