Monday, July 14, 2014

poem of the day 07.14.14

fine dining in america

there are twelve or thirteen of them
at one table

it is almost biblical

plates and napkins are stacked in dirty piles
cup and beer mugs like chess pieces

there is more leftover food on the table
than some countries see in a week

she is bitching at the manager
because one of their meals came out later than the rest

someone had to watch the others eat for a minute
before he was given his own trough of slop to consume
and now she demands satisfaction

this is fine dining in america on a saturday night

where they seat you with a smile
and give you tonight’s manager’s name
because they expect a complaint, they expect the problem

chain restaurants with twenty big screen televisions
raining down every sports channel known to the free world

where the music is so loud that you have to scream
to the person sitting next to you

or you just give up
and sit there in dumb and stunned silence

your very own neighborhood pub an grille
complete with proustian menus of no merit

and food described as stacked, slathered, smothered,
tender, rich, juicy, stuffed, heavy, drizzled, dripping
oppressed, choked, asphyxiated, loaded, piled, amassed

with the same adjectives that will most likely
end up on your medical report one fine day

everybody looks the same in here
dirt tans and t-shirts with some ordinary sarcasm scrawled on it

tired, over-worked, flabby masses
beaten down from days spent shopping
and suffering this weekend’s blockbuster movie

they are digging into the two for twenty meals
and shouting at the television screens

as the manager leaves the last supper fat and contented
with the promise of gift cards and free coca-cola

he’s stalking the space looking for the next misery

as we lift forks and spoons and knives
down glass chalices of watered down, ice cold beer

with a sweaty waitress grinning over us
at the ready to kiss our fat, greasy asses
and ask the eternal question

do you still have room for dessert?


1 comment:

-blessed holy socks, the non-perishable-zealot said...

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