Chicken Bones

Chicken bones on the porcelain plate One diner stared back with a grieving heart Silent but earnest, the industry decried This repetitive chorus of abandoned missions And the bones cried out for revision But this diner presided over a powerless division Of the labor force. All he could do was stare And hope that out there, some dumpster diver With experience in prospecting would mine And grind these bones for the last bit of juices Planet earth, in some parts, is painful You spend time watching the distant sky for a sign Hoping to catch a glimpse of an imagined pie Some sleep with their hands clasped between their thighs Dollar signs hoping tomorrow's sun will shine bright Yeah right. They have the brighter sky this side But that's not the sign we signed up for I was there when you rolled your eyes I saw everything. Just saying Let me finish, I think I know what a grimace is I was there when you made that face You shouldn't have thrown away that mouse The only food we had in this house But can you be blamed for thinking? To you it was a rat and that's all that matters A quilt of faces from a million places Staring out, thinking hard, like a limo driver Turning the wheels of eyes, peering out In silence, no background music or sound Trying to see if there is something to see Something to keep, a souvenir Some kind of finder's fee, but there is none Only you, throwing out unfinished chicken