tired

Sat for an hour today
making notes about the surrounding guys—
all waiting for our new tires.

Some sat, some paced outside;
two knew each other
conversed in French—
a lot of hand waving,
and I wondered
how often we hear people
speak an unknown tongue
as if they were
in another dimension.

I recalled being at a party
everyone spoke Lithuanian
except me. It came to a head
when someone told a hilarious joke
to the whole crowd except me.
Everyone was laughing
(well, I smiled)
and then stopped.

I have remembered that moment
perfectly for fifty-four years.

The day I killed a joke.

I wished I could talk to those two guys.

But I wasn’t talking to any
of the rest of us either.

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