Friday, January 14, 2011

PREFERRED SEATING AT CHUMLEY'S


From ancient corner snug, or booth,


it is possible to observe


the waitresses who serve


to ravenous drunken youth


barbarous and uncouth


baskets of sweaty lobster.


It’s all you can eat lobster.


Lobsters, to be quite honest,


.



really make me want to hurl


I am only here because my girlfriend is Molly.


.



Lobster is grasped by youth in glittering forfex,


ripped apart and sucked, people crunching


and ripping and sucking


and laughing like death was a dream.


Gula! Gluttony!


All you can eat? Gula!


Gluttons put their brains to bed


with gooey toys.


.



My seat is a little too close to the fire.


.



A family of Labradors congregates


under my table. Mother flops,


babies settle down, blinking


in the firelight, their cocoa fur


spangled with sawdust.


.



Of all the actresses working here


Molly is prettiest,


but she’s not an actress—she’s the real thing.


.



With brain simmering


I wait until Molly comes by


and slams another mug of beer in front of me.


I didn’t even ask for it


which is the magical thing about it.


.



But word comes from the bar that Angel is dead.


Cleaning the Chumley’s bathrooms,


dumping the wastebasket, Angel got jabbed


with a dirty syringe, whence he contracted AIDS.


I’m lucky:


I’m alive.


I’m human.


My girlfriend is Molly.


Molly works at Chumley’s.


Ergo my beer is free,


I think.


.



Angel: not so lucky.


.



At this stage of the evening


I have crippling vertigo and euphoria,


my eyes are glowing somewhat.


I have a cigarette but not a light.


I am not smoking yet I am burning.


Heat without ignition. Burning


without purification.


.



No matter. I am only here in a monitoring capacity.


.



Molly is so beautiful, everywhere she goes


she is importuned with vain hellos.


.



etymology:


molitrix: female contriver


mollesco: I soften


mollicella: dainty


mollipes: soft-footed


mollitudo: tenderness, softness, sensibility


burning dog hair


alerts me once more to my surroundings.


.



The youths have departed.


At the now-deserted table: lobster corpses, ragged claws.


The whole joint is littered with body parts


each gutted carapace a successive mask


of gula.


.



Antonio, Angel’s brother, clears away the mess.


Molly claims the heartless gratuity.

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