“I’M GETTING OF!” YOU ANNOUNCE:

Dressed in fake fur,
Blowing in the breeze,
From an open window of an underground train

(K)

THE MAN WHO USED TO BE:

Pulls an empty peanut bag from a pocket,
Starts stuffing newspaper into it,
But the bag’s too small,
It splits,
But he can’t stop,
His peanut turns into the ponytail of a horse,
Running wild across a John Ford desert

(K)

YOUNG MEN STILL:

Wear beards around here,
I did once,
It made me itch for years

(K)

THE MAN WHO USED TO BE:

Ties his hair in a peanut on the back of his head

(K)

WHAT GOES AROUND:

He ignored us,
Spreading flamboyantly into the room,
The room was full of gloom

(K)

FRONT OF BACK:

The waiter had his back to us,
I offered him an olive branch

(K)

SLIPPERS:

I asked what you were thinking,
You said,
“Not”,
You alone had experience,
As we slipped into the night

(K)

FOOD FOR THOUGHT:

When we came to go you asked,
“Should I leave a tip?’
You used to be a waitress,
So the question was deep

(K)

EVERYONE WAS LOADED:

Was the food safe?
Or did he give a sign to the kitchen?
As plates appeared through a hole in the wall,
Festooned with photographs,
Like a shrine

(K)

MORE ABOUT THE WAITER:

The waiter had a natural gift,
For ignoring us,
Every time I tried to catch his eye,
And when he came to take our orders he cracked jokes,
Loosely veiled

(K)