Artwork by Aleksandra Kerzhentceva.  Check her out at
Artwork by Aleksandra Kerzhentceva. Check her out at

Resting easy in
your self-absorption
as you walk into
my café beaming,
dreaming always
– your paper wide open
– and that look
of serious contemplation,
today’s fixation
– Syria and the deficit,
seems China wants the world
to de-Americanize.
As you fraternize
with similar personality types,
suddenly a major crisis ensues;
you’re taken aback,
your irritation grows legs
– the pancakes were not
meant to touch
the eggs.

Now listen here,
I won’t repeat myself,
you need to understand,
at least roughly,
I am like your mamma’s
breast to your mouth,
I cook for you daily
– so trust me.
Would you complain
to your own mother
like a whining, sniveling brat
that you don’t like
the placement of
the butter on
your bread?

With 800 million
going hungry
with every passing day
are you not ashamed
to look me in the eyes
and list the reasons why,
you’re not satisfied?
It’s not to your taste
you say
– looks like it was made
in haste today
– as you bemoan
where your stars
are placed
you hand
your food back
as waste.

Now, I understand
about customer service,
I like to be smiled at too,
but to waste your food
is unforgivable,
so be a sport,
sit back down,
and you eat
what your momma
gives you.

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