Poetry

For this week’s Story Time Tuesday I’ve decided to post a poem. Some of you may have read it before -if you’re a super online stalker. As I’ve been spending a lot of time lately hanging out on Main Street, debating if I should just find some dumb-ass serving job and remembering my days at Goldsmiths with my inspiring writing group, I figured this was an appropriate piece to post. Plus I’ve been too busy editing and rewriting my novel to write something new.

Main and Empty

one week before I got fired

waiting on tables
at East Van’s favorite late night eatery
across from the neon light store/ drug front
down from ten coffee shops in four blocks
next to stores with silk screened ironic t-shirts
locally made jewelry and retro records.

filling my arms with
local brew, sangria and the mix of the day
black beans on basmati
coconut milk and quinoa
mango, tofu, peanut sauce
large nachos the size of my torso.

two guys are sitting at a back table
drinking one p.m. beers
one hides behind Buddy Holly glasses
the other shields with a sleeve of tattoos

we talk
while white people with dreadlocks listen to hip hop
while the smell of spray paint loiters in the alley
while the new cook burns the chili
and I’m shedding dreams like onion tears

after three rounds
they left behind torn napkins
empty cigarette boxes
an insulting 6% tip
and a note

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL

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