Half a Cup, More Please
Green glazed diner vinyl counter top hunch
back waiter Heinz red apron, squat pepper couple,
glass and stained steel, pound cake to a pulp:
contours of collapse — an abandoned caboose,
diner coffee cup. I crossed my heart, hoped
for eggs, butter, sugar in lumps, elbows every
where bacon smell hovered to serve — what purpose
paper hands, forked tongue, bibs of green
laminate trays, incidents of flash and cameo cliché.
I am the diner, reader. I take in; I am taken
in by mustard jars and serrated pickles —
relish all I tell you, grotesque and dear.