Two for one:

On back of a Kaunis Kampela receipt
I write out of context
the noises of the bar.

Though clinking glasses fill
& sacred smoke like incense drifts
upwards to the fish,
bolted to the ceiling;
though revellers murmur,
the cheats smile through white teeth,
though the world is wrapped for inspection

I write these lines:

I'm not the kind of girl
who does this... normally.
My dad would not approve.

I'd heard it all before.
I'd hear it all again,
& every time it was true.

(Truth is what we agree...)

Her shoulders drop, her voice
lingers over the sounds
as she begins... O gossip!