Waiter Poem #10
you hear all sorts
in kitchens
tall tales
of chefs
fingering
women
without
washing
their hands first
fire! fire! fire!
mythical sirens
wailing through the ages
passed from employee
to employee
you hear
of elite professors
& their imaginary dogs
about train drivers
speed stripping naked
of fathers pretending
to be homeless
about the seemingly homeless
out of breath
& blotched red
losing their clothes
in the name
of Christmas
hilarity
you hear of spice girls
in hotel rooms
& second hand
cars that come with
dinner plate sized
spiders
free
of charge
you hear
all sorts
of weird ass shit
and sometimes
you hear something useful
about wine
Horror Sleaze Trash 