street signs
This poem has appeared in Granville.
there's an open window
where my reflected face should be
and all i can think of is
honest food - honest service
like an equation that runs the world
but never makes sense
there is no such thing as
honest food
the tomatoes are simply lying in wait
and it's only a matter of time
until the medium rare cheeseburgers
will rise up in arms
off their plates
and the service won't be honest
no more