The Stand Up Comedy Hour

One day she will somehow surely find
A man who doesn’t make her wait
For hours on end as waiters mind
The poor stand-up whose date is late

And twitchy, hover round the edge
To titter at deluded Hope
Who hesitates o’er meat or veg
While others see the running joke

It’s too unfair, her sitting there
The butt of comments far and wide
As serving staff pour drinks and stare
Embarrassment she cannot hide

The constant refills mean the can
She wanders off to pee once more
Still pondering the galling man
Whose loud and boisterous guffaw

Now seems to ring in both her ears
As face is fixed in bathroom stall
Frustrating as the angry tears
That threaten pretty soon to fall

The promise of a lovely sham
An evening of eating out
She laid her plan to catch a man
But found herself caught out

A Stand-Up Guy

The boy waits just too long
To tell her how he feels
A better bet, and gone
The girl has new ideals
But still he hopes again
To hold her in his arms
When tired of lesser men
She’ll warm to older charms

Stood Up

I gaze upon this lighted dial
And wonder how you take this while.
Where are you now? What do you there?
Have you forgot me? Do you care?
And why am I still waiting here
When you have made it crystal clear
That you don’t give a fig for me –
Nor time spent in my company?!
So why I wait’s a mystery.
Would that I cared as much for thee!
So here and now I’ll end my poem.
And as for you – I’m going home!