poetry Tuesday

I honestly believe time was going backwards today. This poem kept going through my head, as I waited ten hours for my five hour shift to be over. It was written by a girl I took creative writing with 20 years ago; I think she works for the San Francisco Chronicle these days.

It's dead today at Shenanigan's.
I'm waiting tables
like the flower grows.
A cheeseburger blooms in my left hand.
I take it out
and put it on your table
in an eternal dance.
It took me seven years to fill your coffee.
You didn't notice.

-- Erin McCormick