tired bones
how many hours, in a this lifetime, of waiting tables?
with some other purpose
carrying me though
to the afterhours
cash in pocket
extreme gratitude
the girl at the bar
new
never good with females
initially
sometimes ever
i migrate to the end
cruise with the men
whiskey, sweet smoke
simple talk
straight
ahhh
stay longer then is reasonable
moonlight pulls
bed
and here i sit
pb from the jar
tender, syrupy stories of recipes
dreams of scones, breakfast
hours at the stove
swirling incense around
knowing that tomorrow
again
there are tired souls to sooth
coffee
smiles
mine still worn
waiting
taking care
for someday
one day
another day
1 comments:
I waited tables to put myself through college, and I this post brought me back. It really is a difficult job, probably the hardest I ever had. Enjoy your time off, however brief.
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