the bliss

the meaning of life
is that there may or may
not be
any meaning to it,
she says
in her most philosophical
voice.
you reply by saying.
hmmm.
did you know, she says,
tapping my arm
with her spoon that Abraham
Lincoln was probably
gay.
this surprises you, so you
say. really?
he was rather thin and dapper,
and liked the theater, so I
guess I can believe
that. he did spend a lot
of time around DuPont
circle once his wife's meds
kicked in and she went
to bed.
she continues.
there isn't just one God
but many.
she stirs her green tea
and throws back her
hair. do they know each other?
I ask.
do they get together
on Friday nights
and play poker? perhaps,
she says.
there is so much that we
don't know about everything.
I know, I tell her. I know.