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A Perfect Frown

You looked so doleful, sitting there,
Wearing your perfect frown,
I thought perhaps you pitied me
For my sufferings yet to come;
Or, perhaps, you felt afraid,
When I talked of global condemnation,
That I included you;
I did.

You looked so mournful, sitting there,
Eyes raised up, and face turned down,
I told you some things you said you knew,
And some things I never did.
Still, we smoked our cigarettes,
You even smiled once or twice.

I left at dusk; contented,
Feeling as one of those of whom
All those who’ve grown to know and love
Say ‘he is the best man living
[myself aside].’

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