“Hey don’t be starting trouble.”
Bartender said that to Adjective.
Bartender saying that to Adjective,
saying to don’t be starting trouble,
didn’t really soothe Glossary’s
like the bartender knew this adjective
enough to know this particular
adjective was often a very
and a glance Glossary dared cast
supplied enlightenment because
Adjective wore scars of all ages,
a dark red scar here, a wide, cheaply-stitched
scar there, and Glossary might’ve given
a dish of warm cream for the whimpering
sympathy that crawled from under a pile
of dry brown leaves, because Glossary
knew how hard adjectives had it these days,
finding places they’d feel welcome, places
other than this dark pub in this
isolated town, but Glossary
just couldn’t muster a mood
able to encourage sympathy.
The tables too had gone quiet,
the tables the dictionaries
were sitting around. Glossary
didn’t have to turn to look to know
the dictionaries were watching.
“Trouble? Me? Being trouble?
I just want to know why such a fancy
glossary would chance to wander to our
cozy, isolated, little, town,
what a glossary thinks
a dictionary town like our town is
would want to buy anything from
a glossary. Nope. Nothing I can think of
I’d like to buy from a glossary.
Not when we have plenty of dictionaries.
Since this is a dictionary
– a hard-working – dictionary town.”
“Nor do I expect you to have a need
or desire for what I sell. Congratulations.
Many do not. Otherwise I’d travel
not in my rusty clunker
but a vehicle that purrs and is chic.”
Just then a wave of gravelly grumbles
began to swell at the tables where
the dictionaries had been sitting around.