a solitary man at a table for two.
Stuck between the moo goo
and the shrimp fried rice, a nice
diversion to a horrible day.
She would go on to say
things you can never retract
and she’d act as if she were God’s
gift. As if! He’d get a whiff of the oolong
and it reminds him of that song
that she’d sing to drive him crazy.
Maybe he had gotten lazy
or he just didn’t care.
And she was rarely ever there!
So, he’d stare out the window and watch
the world stand still. With two, you get egg roll.
He would kill for an egg roll,
this solitary man at his table for two.
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016