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Selection 6 of

Marauders

by John Kent
When we were kids
we'd press our noses
against restaurant windows,
watching people eat;
wiggling our fingers from our ears;
picking a group to play on;
mournful pleas
would express our deprivation.
How can you eat
when we're starving? we would wail.

This one snobby restaurant,
on 68th and 4th,
a high-class place,
crystal chandelier,
a fancy menu,
(the kind you couldn't read),
snooty waiters and clientele;
We could never eat there.
We were ragamuffins,
stealing sodas and comics
from the candy store;
returning the bottles
for two cents deposit
...keeping the comics.

Anyway,
we haunted that restaurant,
plastered our faces against the windows;
ghostly heads licking panes,
(they washed their windows every day),
rolling our eyes,
doing the two-fingers-pointing-
from-the-nose, wiggling fingers,
picking our noses...that got em.

The manager would fire out the door,
brimstone and fury,
satisfied with nothing less than our lives.
We'd fly down the avenue,
laughing out loud.
We used to eat at the diner
way up the street,
never fooled around there;
meat loaf, potatoes, franks and beans,
slice of apple pie, scoop of ice cream;
our kind of folks.
When I grew up, I dined in snooty places
...never liked it though,
it was business or else;
guess
I'm a blue-plate special man.


Selection 6 of

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Copyright © 2000 by John Kent. All rights reserved.