Tuesday, April 23, 2013

poem of the day 04.23.13

fish oil and ketchup

this thai food tastes like fish oil and ketchup, i think
trying to flag down the waitress for my bill
a pitcher of beer, two bourbons, and two glasses of wine
and i’m done with the smiling faces of the other diners
watching them chew their food and talk common nonsense
i also think about how much i don’t like america or americans
because there’s something inherently dull and stupid about them
but i could probably never live anywhere else out of fear
and when the waitress comes i can’t tell if she’s a boy or a girl
but it’s all right because i’ve never been good a deciding on things.


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