Sunday

Straight back and to the left! Pick up those fucking eggs! We're out of milk! Who took my rye bread!? Four waters to table seven! I'm sorry we don't deliver on Sunday - I need table two for three yesterday! Is there a list? Harrington! Harrington! Kaplan, K-A-P-L-A-N for seven. Order! No, I'm sorry those people were here first We don't have tables for seven! Are we in smoking? Tension. I'll have the salad Niçoise and some challah bread. Balance. I said I wanted an omlette with no yokes, that's why you're just a waiter! Brunch. Sunday in the blue silver chromimum diner On the green, purple, yellow, red stools Sit the fools Who should eat at home Instead they pay on Sunday For a cool orange juice or a bagel On the soft, green, cylindrical stools Sit the fools Drinking cinammon coffee Or decaffinated tea Forever In the blue silver chromimum diner Drips the green, orange, violet drool From the fools Who'd pay less at home Drinking coffee light And dark And cholesterol And bums, bums, bums, bums, bums, bums, bums, bums, bums, People screaming for their toast In a small Soho café On an island in two rivers On an ordinary Sunday Sunday Sunday Brunch!