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The Gut Doesn't Lie Sometimes

Facing the wall

Staring at a piece of art

As the family next to me

Complains about the food here


She’s large

The complainer

She wanted a bigger salad

As her appetizer

The waiter tells her that she already has the ‘full’ sized order of salad

She says it’s not enough


I came here

To mix it up

A new spot

But this family is complaining

About not having a hot tub

And now I want to leave


My plan tonight

Was to keep my headphones

Out of my ear holes

Just in case

Anyone here

Wanted to talk to me


I am trying to be more open to people

Instead of living in my head

I want to engage with them


At least


That was my plan


But now

With this family

I want to retreat back into myself

And music

And words

And stories

And daydreams

And imagination

I want to hide in my corner

Away from these creatures


Now she is complaining about her salad coming on a plate

And not in a boat


The husband complements the radio station to the waitress

Apparently he’s liked all four songs that have played since he’s been here


My food is alright

Not worth how expensive it is

But in this town

There aren’t a lot of cheap options


Then I notice

The little black baby

That these fat white folks

Have with them


I do a double take

Just to make sure


‘Yep.

It’s a black baby.’


I look closely at them

All white


Something doesn’t feel right

My stomach turns

Thinking about these folks raising her

Probably is

Unfair to think that

After 20 minutes of listening to them talk

But the gut doesn’t lie sometimes


They just don’t seem like the type

That could afford to adopt


All of a sudden

The place is packed

And I feel pressured to give up my table

Which really is

Fine by me

I’ll go back to my home

Where my weed and my dog is

I’ll watch a show

Or read a book

While Stanley snores next to me

It’ll be nice

There I won’t have to listen to these people

Or feel pressured to leave


I tried tonight

But these faces here don’t mean anything to me

No one talks to me

No one hardly notices who I am

No one cares

I don’t feel lonely though

This is how

It usually is

It’s just

Life


Life

A repeating pattern of present moments

Over and over again

I am just so tired

Of spending all these repeating moments

Alone


But I’m not lonely

I am just pissed

That I spent thirty dollars

On mediocre food, one beer

And a table next to these meaningless faces


I should’ve stayed home.


-C.H.

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