Fast

Ronald and the trainee indentured labourer

At the check-out smile sweetly;

The beautiful people in the promotional

Shots, ten foot high, laugh insanely;

The elderly lady opposite with the vacant eyes

And floral shirt mutters to her-self loudly

(It’s hard to tell – is she off with the fairies

Or talking to someone on her cell?)

The kitchen automatons ignore us,

Grin and go on with their grim business.

The steam on my coffee writhes

And swirls in time to the muzak gavotte,

The muffin in my gut is hard to forget,

I eat the hash brown to my instant regret.

In his yellow jumpsuit as I walk through the door

The clown jigs and shimmies and pirouettes some more.

Fast published in Foliate Oak Literary Journal, December 2011