She moves around the restaurant floor
In an ancient waitresses’ dance
“Miss, could I have some water, please?”
“Hon, when I get the chance.”

You bang your plate; you wave your arms
You can’t even catch her glance
“Excuse me, but my eggs benedict is cold!”
“Hon, when I get the chance.”

She walks the aisles with determined speed
Nothing will halt her advance
“Couldn’t you stop for a moment, PLEASE?!”
“Hon, when I get the chance.”

The counterman wouldn’t listen to us
The host was in a trance
Mary said, “Hey, how ’bout my tip?”
Sorry, hon, when we get the chance...

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Roger C. (Pascotimes)

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Comments 1 to 5 of 5

Silvercat - - 9/16/2007 4:23 PM ET

You are a clever writer...I'll tell you more when I get the chance...

Lena S. (SquirrelNutkin) - 9/17/2007 6:10 AM ET

You have a real gift......I look forward to reading your work!:)

Kai R. (GrauFrau) - 9/17/2007 10:00 PM ET

Nice one!

Emily W. - 9/18/2007 7:10 PM ET

Thank you, Roger. All of your poetry gave me a chuckle. Emily

Bridget M. (bridgetm) - 10/9/2007 4:52 AM ET

I hate this. I am her and I hate you.

Comments 1 to 5 of 5

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The Eclectic Pen - Ode To Mary, or Lines To Be Penned on the Inside Cover of a Paperback Book while at the Howard Johnson’s in Times Square, NYC, 1989.

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