In the throes of success
The blind dishwasher
Intuits stains the seeing
Can barely spot.
The late night café
Leans sideways to
Accommodate a customer
Who, having induldged,
Needs a different angle
To match his walk.
The cook has a nose
Like an elephant’s trunk
And concocts aromatic
Pleasures of delicacy
And balance that
Mobilize circus tent
Sized appetites.
The waiter’s face
Looks different to
Every customer like
A close old friend.
He knows everybody’s
Name even if they’ve
Never been here before.
Customers often offer
Him their wallets but
Their happiness is the
Only tip he wants.
They take credit cards
But it always seems never
To subtract from your balance.
The music fits each dish
And the desire of people
To talk and the mood
They want to have
Surfaces like a smile.
You never need a reservation.
Your favorite table is
Always ready and
Everybody you have
Been wanting to see
Is there waiting
To say hi to you.
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4 comments:
Really really really like no love this truley brilliant
Wow Sue, thanks! Like you often do, I'm creating an illusion to understand reality, which is the opposite approach from the way most of us usually try to understand things. I'm pretty deaply in debt to you on this one. Glad you loved it so!
Really like the way you have 'painted' this cafe and the scenesin our minds. You show us what you see, and we can see it.
Thanks for dropping by my blog and commenting too.
Thanks .:A:.! Glad you stopped by! I'm especially glad you found something enjoyable here and left some tasty coments in my poem cafe! You are very talented!
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