Lunch is always simple. It's choosing
that makes it difficult.
Number 25 is called, and the menu's got
three rice dishes, everything vegan,
free wi-fi for customers
to dawdle and idle around in,
and a bit of old art on the walls.
Tacky, but hip. Like lunch.
Rice & fried egg with black beans, a rice/soup,
and sandwiches, oh sandwiches.
The candles are decidedly no help.
Neither are the mirrors
expanding along the wall.
Now 31. Hummus. Why not chili.
Why not rice. Now 32. Now 33.
The Goya print is no help.
Now 34. Ok. So rice. Rice.
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1 comment:
I don't get the candle part. Why are candles of no help? Is it just that they are generally distracting? Where does the title come from? Is it just a way of saying there are many dining choices? The narrator is trying to decide which lunch to have at a hodgepodge/crossover restaurant? I was confused because I definitely thought it was a Chinese takeout place and then I was like, wait a minute. Chile? I like the poem though, although it makes me hungry. It's kind of fun in an unnecessarily anxious about making a daily choice moment kind of way.
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