The poet John Keats
ran a hash-joint named, "John's Eats".
A Greek girl sought work. Disinclined to spurn,
he asked, "What does a Grecian earn?"
It’s her and not the Waffle House
That bids me come that way
Not the food or awesome prices
But her smile that feels like pay
Her beauty has me blooming
With stares and look and see
And as she takes my order
No other place I’d want to be
Her movements have me craving
The all she is to me
While simply wearing a uniform
She awakens my need to be
The kindness of her service
Would cure any lonely condition
There something more that arrives
Not coming from the kitchen
It’s not the place with something to eat
That turns that something on that’s missing
And never mind the jealous eye’s
That are there just like mine
Wishing that they were kissing
The cries and lies that beacon time
And suggest a cozy meeting
My turn that often comes and goes
with my always ever seeking
Away to be a little more
With would be love that's creeping
Imagine this a beautiful wife
Compleat with ring and hair
An overdose of happiness
Where few brave souls do dare
I settle for just the stolen moments
With my precious loving care
Glad to be without the worry
Of the eye’s that wink and stare
There was a server at the local cafe you see
Who got in trouble when refilling cups of coffee
Many said just a shot
Half a cup was said a lot
But she lost her job when one said hit me
without a menu
leggy waitress spinning round
silken table cloth.
Little dove won't you sing for me?
I'd walk the ocean for your melody
And fall asleep out on the sea
If only you would sing for me
Little dove can I play for you?
I'd play all day if you want me to
You'd just sit and hear the view
If only I could play for you
at way-stressed words that echoed...
"my (main-you!) plea-is tea...tasting...
'of-odd-cause' heavy flavoring...cofcof..."
stan sand
She was just a little waitress
whom my eye was trained to see
When she walk around the restaurant
for her love to claim to me
That she said she only loved me
when our love was there to be
As I walked out through the doorway
for her love to pay to me
Cinnamon sugar toast please
No butter, toasted caramel, not bark colored.
Extra sugar on the east side.
Extra cinnamon on the right.
Make sure the cinnamon gets spread to the edge.
Do not let any sugar hit the plate.
Maybe a dollop of whipped cream.
What shape should that dollop be in?
Asked the waitress
my mother
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I smile
Sometimes I hide
In the bathroom for a while
The ketchup bottles are empty
The ice buckets must be full
Children scream for chicken tenders
Food is fried in peanut oil
Make sure to write on the ticket
If someone has an allergy
Or they might break out in hives
And their meal will be free
Which means
No money for me
Hurrying down across the ro W
Endless orders for young Pippa
Lovely smile and a bright Hi
Plates of orders steaming hot,
Less help today at hotel 3 star
Evening crowds, work no pause,
Solitary waitress tip toes across
So be generous to the young lass
Written 29/05/2020
3rd place win
Double Double words to bubble
Sponsor Joseph May
Front row reads Helpless
Back row reads waitress!
Please see highlighted letters in my notes
What's it like to be a male waitress
Making sure dudes don't touch your humaness
It's a real challenge
Got a large package
But must maintain decorum while wearing a dress
Earnings
help wanted
long evenings
a service toil of trays
which exhausted smile
the tip
Earnings
high cut mini
her service
always the management's eye
for sex
The table shines
coins in ashtrays
ashes in plates
faces crowded with food
Her service
"Are you finished?"
always the managements eye
for neatness
Earnings
nightly telephone music
always the same
always the management's ear
for music
Rude
they were loud
and their tip was conservative
Earnings
final tally
her husband walked out
her child to clothe
a decent respectable living
her service
always the management's eye
for atmosphere
Published Black Buzzard Press - 1982
The Diner was brightly lit
Made to look like the sixties
Under a thin veil of the seventies
She came over
Meatloaf special tonight
She looked tired
Long past retirement age
She wasn't doing this because she liked it
She had to do it to survive
No 401k or nest egg
Small social security check
Dead husband
Kids doing their own thing
You brought them up
Fed them
Clothed them
Loved them
Now you need them
But they aren't there
So, recite those specials
Poise that pen
Hope for a decent tip
Then do it again
“I will have lamburg toast with fireside jelly and butt hamhogger scits.”
The waitress smiled. She had a four-year-old boy of her own.
“Why not have geesefrackles with hollenberry sauce?”
his eight-year-old sister asked him.
Their mother looked at the waitress and mouthed something.
The waitress nodded and wrote a note.
When his pancakes came he smacked his lips.
“WOW!” he said.
His mother mouthed “thank you” to the waitress,
who fully understood.
Ah~ a pleasurable job I thought!
Loved serving people and making them happy.
For I knew as a customer, what it was like to have service that was
truly crappy.
I relished customers smiles when their water glasses, I filled!
And their satisfied grins, when coffee cups were kept refreshed.
Don't ask me why, but it gave me a thrill!
I have worked in pancake houses, Japanese Yakitori places, donut shops,
a Howard Johnson's and two Italian ones, too.
Quite honestly, in retrospect, I was happier in restaurants than any, structured, educational zoo.
The best part I saved for last!
Coming home, taking off my shoes, so very exhausted but with
bulging pockets holding huge amounts of cash.
Then counting all the change and the bills! You see, I honestly felt like a
millionaire.
Indeed, each night was a thrill. I felt I was the Queen of the Hill!
September 15, 2019
12:15 am
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