A Late-Night Playroom Soirée
Lauren Aspery
Sitting
cross-legged
on the blue carpet
under the glow
of the bare yellow bulb.
Sipping water
from a tiny wine glass,
plastic,
also yellow;
small enough
for the fist
of a seven-year-old girl.
Intoxicated
between notes of melamine
and the glare
of the lime green walls.
Drunk in my make-believe kitchen,
drinking from my make-believe cup,
wine straight from the bathroom tap.
I turn to the radio and press play.
“MY TITANIC CD!” starts to spin
and, from inside the metallic soundbox,
My Heart Will Go On emerges.
I lie on the floor,
kicking the pink office chair
from underneath
so it turns
Near
and turns
Far
and turns
Wherever you are
to the sound of Celine Dion.
