Idle Glimpses

I see them serving
wafer-crisp pizza
to paper-thin women
wearing gossamer rags
blowing trembling smoke
from cigarette chains
while their pencil-thin heels
under calf-hugging boots
tap nervously
on a pebbled patio.

Bare fox-furred shoulders
holding up perfect profiles
with hunting eyes
and charming smiles
that dismiss the humus;
glossy lips that sip some wine
while kissing air
near shaven chins,
and blow away
feather-light words
too heavy to hear.

Carefully swaying bodies
to swinging music
too busy watching
to close their eyes
and feel the rythym
in their soul;
coiffeured men that
the women don't see
stand drunk or dazzled
dividing themselves
over cigar-smoke and scotch
idly searching
this faceless fantasy.

Will they wake up at one
these beautiful people
to the perfect patter
of little feet
and cuddling toddlers
on their way to tennis class
with loving nannies
while Papa and Mummy
turn to their laptops
and salons?