Monsieur, said she
demure
Madame, replied he
lovely coiffure
Garcon, said she
table for two
Caviar and wine, said he, for me
Madame, Vos vilst du?
Cheque please
If you will
Garcon
I have waited longer enough
And if my blind date
Bye some miracle
Does at some point
Eventually finally arrive
And asks did I
Leave you a message
In order to pass on
And give to him
Please won't you tell him this
Time waits
For No Man
Especially 1
Who can't be bothered
To arrive on time
Unless he himself
Is Blind
Doesn't own or watch
Or can tell time
Actually come to think of it
If bye any chance he is in any way good looking
With a sexy body and is a bit of a catch
Nudge, nudge
Wink , wink
Know what I mean
Apologize on my behalf
For leaving as I had a family emergency
And promise I will call him
To reschedule A.S.A.P
And I promise and guarantee you
You will be in for and I will give you
The best tip of your entire life
So much so you may be able to even
Take the rest of the week off
Or afford the cheapest thing
On the menu here or glass of water
Nudge nudge
Know what I mean
Wink wink
i've drunk enough
soup to say
i'm stuffed
and
have even
choked on ugh
somethings wrong
garcon no more
s'il vous plaît
alphabet soup
should be made
of more then z's
sneezing
pardon
i'll find
another
restaurant
where i want
more to tease
then these
soups
and salads
though Maureen's
secret recipe tantalizes
me but
i must put
my napkin up
on the table
unable to order
a full course meal
i must
ask may
i have yes
i wish
to pay
the bill
The boy looks at me with fear in his eyes.
Hesitation in the face of temptation.
I am his ruin, a pit trap, a fall from grace.
I am that which he strengthens his faith by denying.
I am frightening, something he has not been told to want.
But he is not a boy, he is a wolf.
The wolf I love looks at me from beneath his green shroud.
Temptation paws at him, and his thoughts are bared.
A holy creature, though still a denial I face
I am salvation, quenching, a rib to his heart.
I see it written in every inch of him, tooth to tail.
Maybe it is wrong because I am not a wolf, nor a girl.
Or maybe it is not wrong at all, but will take time to unfurl.
waitress
garcon
waiter
what
country am i
in to say no
more give
my wife
mi esposa
no vino
even if
she
asks for more
she doesn't
no gracias
from your
grazie so
s'il vous plait
or por favor no
nada nothing more
el cheque
die Prufung
thank you so much
domo arigatogozaimasu
she'll sleep
sleep it off and
never remember
that i was even there
(One Small Poem! Half Baked!)
A small verse dear garcon, make it medium rare,
For my dentures aren't tight! Is that plain?
And I'm adverse to thought and emotions quite bare,
So hold belfry bats (please) in the main,
Life seems "Trumped" up enough, his orange combover fright!
Best to give my digestion a chance,
With Orwellian fake news, whose sleeping at night?
Will the nation survive his bromance?
Small hands served on the side, please, I’d like them best fried,
His germs haven't a chance then in hell!
Quite sure all hands "felt up," “great” appointments just died,
But postmortem new books should be swell!
Long Tooth
April 17, 2018
I looked a gorgeous a-- in the face
delivered a thick compliment
then murmured contempt for them under my breath
the desire to bond or even agree to disagree
gave way to a bevy of jousting eyeballs
that nearly brought me to fatigue
I should have taken my cue from a drunken uncle
who hid everything behind shot glass and guffaw
while hurling insults under the guise of synonyms
I probably take myself too seriously
but we all must have some sort of defense
why get pummeled by those who can’t even keep a job
garcon more oysters on a half shell please
Heart of Paris
My heart
In Paris Tombs
My soul
Lays scented under lamp lit dark
Empty cafes
Alone inside the carafe of wine
Pay the garcon
Pay the devils fine
Endless streets
Plentiful pastries
I am both fat and thin
I am both rich and poor
I have books
Both written and read
Now over in the graveyard
Come read me dead
Arthur Unknown
I swear to do good deeds
I proclaim to help the poor and needy
Please not while I am eating
Leave me the hell alone
You degenerate bum
My wine, my wine
Mon Dieu
Is cold n'est pas?
Garcon, my jacket!
Wheels spinning to charity
Lost in the Translation
“Donnez-moi un verre de vin”
My accent seemed strange at the Paris café
They brought me an entire carafe of wine
And I drank it all to my escort’s dismay
When I asked, “Ou est la salle de bain?”
Le confused garcon led me to the alleyway
“Où sont les toilettes?” I tried again
“C'est à l'hôtel,” was all he could say
Groaning, “Sacré bleu, PARDON MY FRENCH!”
I spun and jogged miles to my hotel in haste
Two thousand for airfare, far more for a tutor
Such an investment seems quite a “waste”
When all you want is to relieve yourself
And still cannot locate the proper place
*Assigned phrase for Deborah’s contest: PARDON MY FRENCH
a
trio
of garcon-
idling far too
long
http://www.worldofstock.com/closeups/TED1423.php
"klenkes" (the little finger )is the identification sign of former people of Aix-en chapelle/Aachen
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