For the Sad Waitress at the Diner in Barstow
by Alexis Rhone Fancher
beyond the kitchen’s swinging door,
beyond the order wheel and the pass-through piled
high with bacon, hash browns, biscuits and gravy,
beyond the order wheel and the pass-through piled
high with bacon, hash browns, biscuits and gravy,
past the radio, tuned to 101.5-FM
All Country – All the Time,
past the truckers overwhelming the counter,
all grab-ass and longing.
All Country – All the Time,
past the truckers overwhelming the counter,
all grab-ass and longing.
in the middle of morning rush you’ll
catch her, in a wilted pink uniform,
coffee pot fused in her grip, staring over
the top of your head
catch her, in a wilted pink uniform,
coffee pot fused in her grip, staring over
the top of your head
you’ll follow her gaze, out the fly-specked, plate
glass windows, past the parking lot,
glass windows, past the parking lot,
watch as she eyes those 16-wheelers barreling
down the highway, their mud guards
adorned with chrome silhouettes of naked women
who look nothing like her.
down the highway, their mud guards
adorned with chrome silhouettes of naked women
who look nothing like her.
the cruel sun throws her inertia in her face.
this is what regret looks like.
this is what regret looks like.
maybe she’s searching for that hot day in August
when she first walked away from you.
when she first walked away from you.
there’s a choking sound
a semi makes, when it pulls off the
highway; that downshift a death rattle
she’s never gotten used to.
a semi makes, when it pulls off the
highway; that downshift a death rattle
she’s never gotten used to.
maybe she’s looking for a way back.
maybe she’s ready to come home.
maybe she’s ready to come home.
(But for now) she’s lost herself
between the register and the door, the endless
business from table to kitchen, she’s
between the register and the door, the endless
business from table to kitchen, she’s
as much leftover as those sunny side eggs,
yolks hardening on your plate.
yolks hardening on your plate.
* * * * *
"For
the Sad Waitress at the Diner in Barstow" was first published
in The San Pedro River Review, 2016 and in
S-Curves,
http://s-curvesonline.com/sad-waitress-diner-barstow/ (2016)
http://s-curvesonline.com/sad-waitress-diner-barstow/ (2016)
Alexis Rhone Fancher’s poems are published in Best
American Poetry, 2016, Rattle, The MacGuffin, Slipstream, Wide Awake:
Poets of Los Angeles, Hobart, Mead, Chiron Review, Cleaver,and elsewhere.
She’s the author of How I Lost My Virginity To Michael Cohen &
other heart stab poems, and State of Grace: The Joshua
Elegies. Her photos are published worldwide, including spreads in River
Styx, Rogue Agent, and the covers of Witness and The Mas Tequila Review. Since
2013 Alexis has been nominated for 7 Pushcart Prizes and 4 Best of the Net
Awards. She is poetry editor of Cultural Weekly. She grew
up in Topanga and now lives in Los Angeles. alexisrhonefancher.com
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