Commonplace

What is commonplace is not always best...

My friends say I should

talk more

so I make small talk with the woman

scooping boxed mash potatoes on my tray

                                                prattle (as Martin Heidegger would call it)

                                    useless

                        meaningless

numbing

 

I ask her if she likes her job,

which I realize,

was probably a mistake

 

she narrows her eyes at me

and the potatoes drip with disdain

                                    apparently she doesn’t like it either.

But you understand right

small talk is called small talk

for a reason

 

you can’t ask the mailman if he likes Aristotle’s views on the soul

without sounding like a complete dingbat

 

talk to me, mailman-

 

“Hi, how are you today?”

“Good and yourself?”

 

do I tell him I’m good

or do I tell him that the shards of this meaningless chatter

are mutilating my throat

 

“I’m good, thanks.”

 

The End

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