I work at the restaurant
and tie my hands with my shoe laces
there's no need to retrace all the steps
I have taken to find myself standing here washing dishes
over this sink
I work at the restaurant
and don't leave till the sun goes down
I hang my rags to dry
wish the patient counter girls goodnight
and make my way home back thru town
Around 6 I stand at the window
and watch the sky wait behind the Mountains
watch all the cars and people go by shoutin'
Now whose bread m'I supposed to butter anyway?
Maybe if I stare into the sun long enough
I can project absorbing light
Bridget wipes crumbs from the table
with a blue wet rag
smiles and asks, 'what you doing? '
Oh, nothing.
I said
with thoughts brewin' in my head
Steven Adelman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/smiling-moose-break-poem/
