Social Intercourse
Her name is Susie.
'I'm from Manchester,' she says,
her top lip trembling;
she's hoping she can get away with it.
Her accent is pure
Moscow, or
Kiev, or
somefuckingplace.
'Which part?' I say,
like the bastard I am.
The quivering stops -
she's up for the challenge.
'Near the trains,' she says.
I let it go, even though
no one else at the table
speaks English.
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