THE BALL CATS
All these diners are closing,
and these aren't scrambled eggs.
I don't eat ham, so it wouldn't
matter, but Miss Maybelline
over there, if I called her over,
wouldn't know the difference
anyway - between meatloaf
and carbolic acid. Plus, I could
get better sauce in an old
hardware store : nails where
the label should be, and a
paint-cane where to spit out
the pits. For these seats, they
should be paying me, and for
these eats I should be eating free.