Strumpet Song by Sylvia Plath: Mere bruit of her takes our street
"Long legs, beautiful hair, lustrous chocolate brown eyes; Alan, this woman was a sight to behold. Everyone, even Paul and Carl, stopped in their tracks to watch her go by. Unfortunately, Shirley saw what happened and claimed her as a client."
Alan shrugged. "There can be only one Queen Bee."
Of Being is a Bird by Emily Dickenson: It soars – and it shifts – and whirls
"Denny, what are you doing?"
"Playing with my cigar smoke. Look; I can make it look like jet contrails."
Alan blew a perfect figure eight. Pointing proudly, he bragged, "Top that!"
Carl watched as both men tried to outdo the other's smoke configurations.
"Will you two ever grow up?"
"Nope."
Our share of night to bear by Emily Dickenson: Here a star and there a star
"The stars are beautiful, aren't they, Denny."
"Yes. What made you decide to stand out here to look at them?"
Alan sighed, "If I tell you something, promise you won't pity me?"
At Denny's nod, Alan cleared his throat and said, "Sometimes, I miss my wife so very, very much."
