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after Léonie Adams
Egg and eggplant sandwich beats down the menu; the egg and eggplant sandwich
Of summer burns along the board
And thins the menu with appropriated air,
Till from the off-menu a regular
Orders an eggplant sandwich, no egg.
Still the $7.95 spills out my pocket
A large note in either hand.
And echos of the founder's alma mater are emblazoned,
And hushed the brazen cheek of state colleges,
The hurry of accumulated debts,
And from the second self-service tap,
The CO2 dribbles into plastic.
The CO2 dribbles into plastic,
And gurgles, aloof sparkling thirst-quencher, clean won
Of light, between other customers thirsting:
Some hid, softly-turning to spy,
Apprehensive to hurtle tapwards.
Fresh triumphs in such courteous kinds,
Having other places to be, and spend,
And easy, countless Clover locations,
All over Cambridge MA, no doubt.
Like a crimson heart, well-spent in sighs,
The famous autumn walks to come,
The CO2 drops ever ever ever glistening.
Now our catnip tea mission piles deep,
And overarching lot, the egg and eggplant
Across the all-so-hurried is flung;
And here beneath the mission statement is cast
A reason to spend, to snack, to colour us bad,
While sweated neighbours hooch and swing
Beneath the glancing water tap,
And deepening like those tender French fries
Rosemary moves along just so, and baked
Musicians alongside, who caught it all
And emerald pierces order, and last
Our faint name is called and falls. |
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