the neighborhood eatery She prayed the anorexic waitress wasn't assigned to her table The dead woman felt guilty eating food offered from plates
The Dead Woman sat at a table in
passed to her by bony hands
She didn't know why the
restaurant hired anorexic servers
who made customers wiggle
and regret or even pass up
saying "Scrambled eggs"
or "fried chicken"
The dead woman wondered
if perhaps the anorexic
waitress was an imposter person
Maybe she was a dead
woman, breathing
The dead woman forgot
The dead woman remembered
she loves the smell of coffee
more than she loves the taste
The dead woman discovered
the cold drink of water tastes like
hiking in April or waking up in
a tent after the first night of camp
when she wondered if her snoring
bothered any of her tent mates
The Dead Woman sat at a table
in the neighborhood eatery.
= = =
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