автор: yd

As I enter my future
Tang on the balcony -
coffee, mice rotten
hit onto my son-to-be-born
insensitive nostrils.

Ahead of me -
Tables and chairs -
crammed, staffed.

Fit to fit more.
Squishing the floor once yellow
now not.
I glimse somewhat indifferently for you,
with a passing by like a cockroach,
I place the missing fork
on your wrinkled paper napkin,
onto the blue pad in front of you
on table Nom: 35
that's in the left back corner?

saluting the staff
to ensure that
the homemade pies
have been delivered
probed and harassed

I refill the Heinz bottels
here pass-by at my station
for a half-smile of my face pimpled
I bow at you, angry customer,
for I am driven.

with your persionalised order