Jean leans back in
one of the pink-and-cream leatherette booths,
sighing and sipping her chocolate soda
as downy tendrils of platinum blonde hair,
scorched from too much laundry bluing
gently float to the floor like feathers on a breeze.

Jimmy sits with Monty and River,
a trinity of insouciant nonchalance
and maddening smolder
while one booth over, another Jim
tries desperately to mimic their stances,
but can't summon the aloofness required

Marilyn had been effervescent and vivacious earlier, but
after she brought out the dolls, her incandescence
had been extinguished
, and she slept sitting up,
so as not to disturb the cosmetics
she'd spent hours meticulously painting on her face,
while Jayne rummages through her handbag

Back in the kitchen, the sounds
of plates clanking and glasses clinking
made for a sort of jazz
in the sparsely occupied diner

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