november 10th, 2009

here's an older poem...

the waitress

What would you like to eat sir? I lift my heavy head and gaze blankly into her dull, vanilla eyes. She stands waiting for an answer, or anything resembling one. My silence wrinkles her forehead and flares her nostrils. But she chooses to stay, to her this has become a contest of great importance. She has put her pride at stake, but doubts the hole in my heart is capable of such destruction. The silence sitting between us manifests into a beast bearing a beautiful pair of day-glo boxer briefs. The beast acknowledges the stubborn waitress and turns to me wearing the look of complete inner destruction. I return this look with a pair of sympathetic eyes, but this only angers the beast. He motions toward the ceiling making his escape known. The waitress starts to weep and I feel compelled to help, to rock her to sleep. I cradle her fragile body as the beast realizes escaping will solve nothing. Never again! it shouts as I whisper my breakfast order into the ear of the waitress wet with tears. She scampers off and I am left with an animal as confused as I.