Sitting in a poetry reading.
All the lovely pristine poetry
Going right over my head,
Like butterflies.
And I, watching it, smiling,
Listening to the little fluttery sounds,
The pretty pastel shades,
The crassly familiar sunset backdrops,
The whole shemozzle.
I, in the midst of all that,
Unsuitably clad in plain t-shirt and jeans-
A nice green colour, but sadly plain,
Smiling at the thought of how silly
A hot guy would look in a green-blazer-brown-pants uniform,
Amidst a gathering smiling at the aesthetic sensibilities expressed in the use of the word 'bubbles' in the third line of the fifth verse.