At The Morning of Consciousness Cafe
Kin I fix ya up with sumpthin' ta drink?
Huh?
...coffee...coffee...coffee...coffee
and a glass ah water...
all waters? Huh?
I don't like chemistry
may I milk fer my coffee?
Yeah, Hon.
Ready ta order? Huh?
Ya ready?
Yeah...eggs
eggs...flapjacks 'n buckwheat.
Warm this up fer ya? Coffee?
Sure...no...hand over cup like a retract
thunderdome over the stadium of life...huh?
Are ya still workin' on that? That concept there?
Still workin' on it?
Worryin' around the plate
like a dog with a bone?
Huh?
no more coffee...please...two hands over cup
and the waitstaff pours it anyway
hot upon yer hands
you yell and
everyone wakes up, like, they had been
asleep and dreaming in a tocata state
and fugue...huh?
staring with wide eyes.
the tip is a tenth and a half o' that
and then a bit
added to the pre-tax subtotal...
and you think it's such precision,
and you think you got it knocked,
and you think no one has keyed your car
within the parking lot!
2 comments:
smile.
...well said...
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