Tuesday, October 19, 2010

scenes from a waffle house

I see you in the light of the table lamp, switched off.
Sprawled on your back, chest to the sky, arms open,
I am filled with a sudden rising anxiety that you might take off,
A vessel in flight over swelling waters.

I crawl to you like a fish sprouting legs,
Evolution guiding my fingers over land,
Skin and bones and meat and heartbeat shocking my tendons.
One nail in front of another other other,
No longer starved, they simply linger.

You stir,
Dancing shadows across your face,
Watching me from behind your lids,
Fashioning your limbs into a trap -
I volunteer myself, a nubile victim,
In your sleeping ear: "Tie me up."

We stir,
Coffee and cream across a lacquered table.
Your wheels are up.
In one motion you slide from your seat to share mine,
And in my pouring ear: "With you, silence is not so bad."

Browned on the griddle,
I'm done.


  1. I finally went to a waffle house about a month ago. I had never been because they just aren't in my area. I loved this. I like the line, "like a fish sprouting legs". I like your undertone of the whole poem.

  2. @Melanie: What?! Man Waffle House is amazing. I love it so much. We don't have them in NYC - but they are abundant in the South - and thus they remind me of home. And thank you :)

  3. Waffle House and bondage... I approve.