Waiting Tables
When asked
What I do for work
“I get up
every morning
and roll a boulder
up a hill.”
We must imagine Sisyphus
having back problems.
Francisco caught me
stretching in the men’s room.
He asked, “You too?”
The boulder industry
isn’t bad, though
there aren’t many benefits
& the hours are tough,
and though I like my job,
that’s not half as much as
I like leaving it,
as when
the day is late
& I’m nearly
at the top of the hill
& the view
ain’t bad
& my
hands
You know.
replenishing waters
at work replacing a customer’s knife
when my hand brushes his:
daylight
O my life
the dinner crew
hath arrived
Notes on Wine
-Sancerre: Sauv. Blanc: Citrus, more intense than Muscadet,
-GOAT CHEESE TART!
-Pouilly Fume: Same Grape as Sancerre
-smokier, FUME
remember that
-Saumur –– cabernet franc:
medium body, a little earthy,
great with chicken
Chablis: All Chardonnay
-Green apple/Lemon
Bourgogne Blanc
-More weight and fruit
Bordeaux
-black plums & prunes. Bigger. Steaks yeah?
March 2 –– Hungover at Work
One article read, “You’ve poisoned yourself,”
and described my condition as a dopamine desert,
similar to having depression, so, for a few hours,
I got a taste of what
my friends feel
every day.
Alcohol ran me down,
robbed me at the doorway.
I tried all my coworkers’ remedies:
pickle juice, soda water
with bitters, Nothing
could I keep down.
I got so low
I could see the ants
like black stars
in the cracks
of our restaurant.
Eventually, the managers
took pity,
leading me downstairs
to the Secret Nap
Room, where
an empty cot
was kept.
There I slept,
pulling all the power
from the ground
to return their kindness.
Above,
on the floor,
every busser & waiter,
all our busy hosts and
customers were
simultaneously healed.
They shifted their shoulders,
straightened their backs,
let out a
light breath.
“Did you feel that?”
They started to ask.
“I feel.........
better.”
Alone,
underground,
I slept.
feb 28
i love the Me still milling at home,
saving every penny earned or
Not Even Working,
spending full days in bed or
on the couch with music playing,
getting in bouts with mom and
listening to dad talk
at length about math,
while I am crushed under
another day on my legs,
and spilt champagne
—————fuck!
march 7
skipped a day — no downtime
but it was nice to see you.
This morning I fumbled
with the end of the rope.
I thought that it should
have been longer. you
know those mornings
you long for death?
And yet, everyone
on my train was
living a harder
life than me.
Buck up!
I think we’ll
be alright.
march 14
meeting johnny in the bakery
both holding bread plates
having gone for the same sticky bun
he hands me his spare, which is warm
while mine is cold,
walking home, a wet, rotty
wooden desk, a chimney
steaming in the snow
twelve hours behind
on the other side
of the planet
my mother
she sleeps
coward
if i knew the life i’d lose
[infatuated with the love
i’d need to] cut between my teeth,
the first time at broadway deli
that i sat & had my breakfast
or the last customer of the day
who ordered a cortado
and an omelette
(so tired of food
so ready to write
about something new]
april 13
I want my life back. I relinquished my life
for a moment or so
I could see just how that felt
but I want it back now. I want it back.
I want my life five days in a row
I want it if not seven
the GM asked me Why I Was Leaving
because my body hurts , pablo
I have sold you my life
for pennies on the dollar
I sold you my spine and
the wool from my eyes
for ten dollars per hour
but I want it back now
that spring is in season
I didn’t give it
to you for the keeping
I want it back now,
hear
I want it all back.
As seen in: https://readcopy.co/Waiting-Tables
