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Poem	having the low down blues and going into a restraunt to eat. you sit at a table. the waitress smiles at you. she's dumpy. her ass is too big. she radiates kindess and symphaty. live with her 3 months and a man would no real agony. o.k., you'll tip her 15 percent. you order a turkey sandwich and a beer. the man at the table across from you has watery blue eyes and a head like an elephant. at a table further down are 3 men with very tiny heads and long necks like ostiches. they talk loudly of land development. why, you think, did I ever come in here when I have the low-down blues? then the the waitress comes back eith the sandwich and she asks you if there will be anything else? snd you tell her, no no, this will be fine. then somebody behind you laughs. it's a cork laugh filled with sand and broken glass. you begin eating the sandwhich. it's something. it's a minor, difficult, sensible action like composing a popular song to make a 14-year old weep. you order another beer. jesus,look at that guy his hands hang down almost to his knees and he's whistling. well, time to get out. pivk up the bill. tip. go to the register. pay. pick up a toothpick. go out the door. your car is still there. and there are 3 men with heads and necks like ostriches all getting into one car. they each have a toothpick and now they are talking about women. they drive away first they drive away fast. they're best i guess. it's an unberably hot day. there's a first-stage smog alert. all the birds and plants are dead or dying. you start the engine.
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