The Maitre 'D
The laws in his head are paramount.
The restaurant behind him is sacrosanct.
The best I can be is an annoyance.
At worst, a criminal.
His first inclination is that
I must not eat here at all costs.
Behind his superior stare, he relents -
one course, one wine-list, at a time.
It is important that I realize that everything,
from the table linen, to the drinks, the food,
I will owe to his beneficence.
In earlier times, he would have been a judge,
deciding who lives, who dies,
by the trim of their beard, the color of their eyes,
their stance, the gold coins slipped from palm to palm.
Now, the life and death is sate or starve.
But still it's haughtiness that bangs the gavel,
cocks the finger, utters, "This way - come."
Will it be the chopper, I wonder?
Will it be the chefs specials for the day?
He's more than the arbitrator in all things culinary.
He has the influence. He has the upturned nose for who he is.
All I want is a table for two. What he wants more
than anything is my subservience. Impatience
has a hard time with deference. But I thank him when
he ultimately seats us. And that's not easy for a headless man.
FIRST DATE
Young girl rubs perfume
into her wrists,
sprays sweet smells
down her throat,
paints her eyes
with her big sister's shadow...
Young girl in her
black spangled dress,
smoothes with
eager, anxious hands,
from breasts to waist to skinny legs,
a ten fingered safari
hunting for shapes.
He'll be there at seven,
must have her home by ten.
Her image fills the mirror
but can it fill three hours.
The laws in his head are paramount.
The restaurant behind him is sacrosanct.
The best I can be is an annoyance.
At worst, a criminal.
His first inclination is that
I must not eat here at all costs.
Behind his superior stare, he relents -
one course, one wine-list, at a time.
It is important that I realize that everything,
from the table linen, to the drinks, the food,
I will owe to his beneficence.
In earlier times, he would have been a judge,
deciding who lives, who dies,
by the trim of their beard, the color of their eyes,
their stance, the gold coins slipped from palm to palm.
Now, the life and death is sate or starve.
But still it's haughtiness that bangs the gavel,
cocks the finger, utters, "This way - come."
Will it be the chopper, I wonder?
Will it be the chefs specials for the day?
He's more than the arbitrator in all things culinary.
He has the influence. He has the upturned nose for who he is.
All I want is a table for two. What he wants more
than anything is my subservience. Impatience
has a hard time with deference. But I thank him when
he ultimately seats us. And that's not easy for a headless man.
FIRST DATE
Young girl rubs perfume
into her wrists,
sprays sweet smells
down her throat,
paints her eyes
with her big sister's shadow...
Young girl in her
black spangled dress,
smoothes with
eager, anxious hands,
from breasts to waist to skinny legs,
a ten fingered safari
hunting for shapes.
He'll be there at seven,
must have her home by ten.
Her image fills the mirror
but can it fill three hours.
