Speaking Jive

Sitting in the waiting room, hoping for a turn;
Desperate; trying not to fall asleep.
Wringing out the magazine like a washcloth for my face
To wipe away the tension of a long and anxious keep,
When in he walks, or should I say
He struts into the room; energy too plentiful to fret.
Flitting like a butterfly one person to the next,
Desperate just to bum a cigarette.
Then spying an acquaintance, an amazing thing began;
Like honeybees erupting from a hive.
A triad much akin to English, somehow, but not quite,
The two of them began to speak in jive.
A helplessness fell over me, a thing I can't explain;
Like nothing I had ever felt before.
Not a word did these two speak that I could understand;
Although their tones were no less than a roar.
On they spoke, and there was no joke.
Each clearly understood.
And I could tell by the way they talked
Their lives were going good.
It took a while, and it made me smile,
Made me glad to be alive.
And now I know it "ain't no thang"
To be speaking all that jive.

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