Thursday, February 28, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and SEVENTY


these chicken wings don’t run

the back
of the waiter’s t-shirt
has a tattered american flag on it
and it says

if you love america
you’ll love this bar

but if i’m sitting in here
then surely the two ideas can’t be intertwined

i don’t love america

to tell the truth
i don’t really like this bar

with its american flags everywhere
and its corny fallen military hero motif

ten television sets
half of them set to espn
the other half set to fox news

and every table and bar stool
full of doughy white dudes
dressed like they’re off to the big game
or set for a nazi rally

no, i don’t like this place
but i love their buffalo wings

and i'm so hungry
for all i care
the waiter could be wearing a t-shirt
with uncle sam's
sinister, stupid, tired-ass glaring
back at me

one menacing, geriatric finger
painted electric orange and dripping goodness

pointing at me
as if to say

listen, you commie wimp
these here chicken wings

they sure as shit
don’t fucking run
  
which means
i can fake being a patriot
at least until my belly is filled

and i could swallow lady liberty whole
if she came waltzing on in here
dressed only in hot sauce.

--John Grochalski 

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