Espresso cups clicking into their saucers,
Sudden outbursts of laughter,
And the background hum of Brazilian bees socializing.
I slide down my chair and under the table, staring at the rows of knobby knees.
This is our Saturday commitment.
Here, we politely excuse the layer of bullshit seeping into our shoes.
Betina asked me to keep this a secret but…
Have you seen the school Lucimar sends her kids to…
Can you believe Cynara puts her kids on diet pills…
Like Neanderthals feeling safer in a tribe,
Brought together by aiming spears.
That can easily be turned on themselves.
Nobody wants to be Betina.
Tchau, gente! Vai com deus!
We flash our teeth through smiles,
And drag out the final set of formalities.
Once the door shuts and we begin the march home,
We comment on the cheap silverware.