Morning
and she’s
at the table
with her notepad
and her pen
and she’s asking,
“How would you like your eggs?”
and then she goes
through the spiel
and I say what I always say
and she goes away
with her notepad
and her pen
and her spiel
and I take a break for her
and change the oil
from black to beige
and wonder what
his story is
the guy a booth over
eating his way through
“all-you-can-eat-pancakes”
and he doesn’t
really want ‘em
but he eats ‘em
as if he’s gotta make up
for that person
the one who stood him up
the one he’s been waiting for
the one who never turned up
and they take away his sticky plate
and bring him a fresh stack
and he darts his eye around the room
and we pretend not to notice
and the couple to the left
haven’t spoken
save their order
like they said
all there was to say
when they were twenty
and seventy
just wants a waffle
with a side of bacon
and a can of oil
and somebody just left a tip
jangle of change
and there’s a line waiting
to go out
and a line waiting
to go in
TL