November 11, 2019
"Mes de los Muertos"

 

For the Sad Waitress at the Diner in Barstow

 
 
 

For the Sad Waitress at the Diner in Barstow

beyond the kitchen's swinging door,
beyond the order wheel and the pass-through piled
high with bacon, hash browns, biscuits and gravy,

past the radio, tuned to 101.5-FM
All Country - All the Time,
past the truckers overwhelming the counter,
all grab-ass and longing.

in the middle of morning rush you'll
catch her, in a wilted pink uniform,
coffee pot fused in her grip, staring over
the top of your head

you'll follow her gaze, out the fly-specked, plate
glass windows, past the parking lot,

watch as she eyes those 16-wheelers barreling
down the highway, their mud guards
adorned with chrome silhouettes of naked women
who look nothing like her.

the cruel sun throws her inertia in her face.
this is what regret looks like.

maybe she's searching for that hot day in August
when she first walked away from you.

there's a choking sound
a semi makes, when it pulls off the
highway; that downshift a death rattle
she's never gotten used to.

maybe she's looking for a way back.
maybe she's ready to come home.

(But for now) she's lost herself
between the register and the door, the endless
business from table to kitchen, she's

as much leftover as those sunny side eggs,
yolks hardening on your plate.






First Published in San Pedro River Review, 2017






Article © Alexis Rhone Fancher. All rights reserved.
Published on 2019-06-24
Image(s) © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.


2 Reader Comments

Ralph Bland
06/24/2019
01:06:36 PM

Terrific poem! I loved all the imagery and that line, "this is what regret looks like." I was right there in that restaurant, ready to place my order.

Anonymous
06/26/2019
12:45:16 PM

This is a moving poem. "This is what regret looks like." Sounds like the poet believes there's the possibility of reconciliation.

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By Alexis Rhone Fancher: