Rob Harle #22 Dinner At The Club
hunger is taking over sanity
long days of travel,
checking in, checking out, checking in.
Ah! a nice meal at the nearby Club?
fish and salad
over easy,
Add To Cart
a microscopic draft of white,
six dollars per glass!
the grey blob of fish arrives
hurled at the table carelessly,
the greasy waitress blob
detached and disinterested,
terrifying!
two chips down – just,
try to chew the ten year old lettuce
cleaned my throat with the drop of wine
escaped the chamber-of-horrors in shock,
the foetid atmosphere suffocating me
the grease, uncooked batter-flour
pure slime,
the ambience of grotesque blobbery,
the Keno,
the television footy,
the greyhound racing obscenity,
the flashing electronic money takers
haunt me nightly
think I need help,
perhaps
Post Traumatic Stress counselling
perhaps
Electro-convulsive therapy?
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