Booths shelter those hung
over, elbows tacky with
pancake syrup spills.
Diner
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Booths shelter those hung
over, elbows tacky with
pancake syrup spills.
Short-term guests in my
fridge, pantry, cabinet — but just
until they are served.
Domestic mountains
rimmed with grime, sponge scaling this
Everest of suds.
Ate bad stuff. Gained weight.
Hate myself. Still, I think, There’s
always tomorrow…
Carbs like clouds. When gone
clarity returns. Blue sky
thinking open mind.
Olive pits. Glass shards.
Bent straw. He warns, It’s not a
garbage disposal…
Kitchen windows fogged,
oven-baked chicken is the
scent of homecoming.
Nearby, a mother
pokes at her salad while her
sons push food around .
Malted milk eggs, Peeps,
solid bunnies (eaten ears
first) hide in fake grass.
Expected to know
all the dishes, servers eat
the entire menu.