in the blue prepubescent morning,
she drinks vodka from a godzilla mug with a taste for her ex husband.
she studies the frost on her cold steel passenger and shrugs it away.
maroon (ed) waitresses stand outside EAT AT WADDLES, smoking their black and milds,
drinking their tequila laced coffee,
and talking about days that were once good and old simultaneously.
(a plate of a dismembered catalytic converter.
a cup of dehydrated transition/radiator water.
a bowl full of bread crumb cylinder heads.
the pouring of syrup onto discount used spark plugs.)
she makes her way inside, studying their thick clouds of childhood poverty
and fat cheerleading ankles.
a neon baby duck promises a pancake stack as high as her head while
bread pudding and ginger men make love inside her polyester pockets and
chickens hatch egg surprises inside rubber prison coups.
she chokes back a wad of antiparticle as she remembers her resolution:
it's too late for idols
(the drunken harvest of a fat, balding pop quiz master.
a catalog and the selection of terry clothed microwave cozies.
the creation of china with the A.A. crest emblazoned across it.
a long talk about the inducement of labor and past stalking addiction.)
she moans and rolls her hands over an oily forehead.
cars speed by her aquarium meal.
she sips coffee and flips through a Cosmo.
there�s nothing more American than this, she says
as her pork, eggs, and cakes arrive in a running, blur of mud.
(vows and sloppy porn star kisses before a Vegas priest
the rubbing of noses for Eskimoses and grizzly bears
the pacification of Cosby orphans
the drawn out silence of two Russian roulette contestants.)
she splashes cold chlorine across her peeling skin and pulls out orange lipstick
the blow drying box hums across her pin point tattooed arms
she slowly slides to her knees on a steel floor
bows her head, folds her hands and begins to sob.
(a racing car whore being fucked against her mother�s antique armoire
the shocking stench of his favorite cologne across her stained pillow
the signing of her soul on Kinko copies that stretch up to heaven
the car keys delivered in a box of budless roses.)
she wipes away snot and sighs
visions of english rock stars wrap their arms around her
�everything�s gonna be sunshine and capers for you someday.�
she pulls her uniform from her bag and dresses,
she moves slowly, dreamily,
humming an eclectic tune
and pulling a pen from her apron as she
takes an order.