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  • The
    lunch room
    is a handy place
    along Cahuenga West.
    although it has
    small parking spaces,
    it is across the street
    from Universal Studios
    and close to Warner Bros
    where I often work.
    it's usually packed
    to the gills at noontime,
    it's cleared out
    and near dead
    by 2pm.

    I sit
    by the front window
    and am willing to share the table
    with anyone
    who wants to look in
    from the sidewalk,
    so far
    I get no takers.
    only a field of glimpses,
    a view so to speak,
    diagonal as it is
    toward the kitchen
    where every now and then
    I'll see
    the waitresses smiling
    and flirting
    with each other
    beneath a large photo of
    Clark Gable
    sitting alone in a car
    with a newspaper in his hand
    bearing the headline
    War Is Over!

    I watch
    all of them
    hug one another,
    capriciously kissing at times
    and copping feels
    among themselves.
    on occasion
    I can hear them
    expressing their jealousies of
    other women,
    their rages
    borne out of deeply
    troubling psychologies,
    their obviously blatant
    and random anger
    directed toward men,
    most of whom I imagine
    are probably a lot like me.

    even some
    open hostility
    about anything at all
    that by chance happens
    to get in their way,
    I begin a strenuous program of
    positive thinking,
    even psychically grounding myself,
    ultimately hoping they enjoy
    their lesbianism
    in peace
    and contentment

    of course
    won't allow their deepness
    to interfere in any way

    my cheeseburger
    and large side of fries
    that are yet
    to come.


    (c)2014 Miles Ciletti
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