Poem
Ode to Diners
By Carrie Sperlunto
I’m running a business.
Extra bread isn’t free.
When I go to a store
They want money from me.
Don’t say “Pasta’s cheap.
Pile more on my plate.”
It’s not about pasta
It’s meals we create.
I want water with lemon.
Pour the wine to the brim.
If I order one dinner
Will it feed me, her, & him?”
You ask for the world.
We’re happy you’re here.
We live only to please you.
We give value and cheer.
If there wasn’t a loan
If there were no bills to pay
I’d swing wide the doors
I’d give food away.
