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Dinner Party

By Sam Scott

I expect everyone eats everything on the table:

Turkey, tater tots, tuna

I expect every edible to evaporate,

Nothing, nada, not even there.

People ate at a rate so great,

that an apple with only its core remains.

No food scraps on the floor so no chores for sure. If

only there were people that cared,

About cleaning after their plates.

Instead of expressing laughter, at me, the late poor maid

Well at least I get paid for feeding them hungry beasts. But

for now I am seething in this horrible mess.

All the weight of this work heavy on my chest.

Plate after plate, fork after spork,

dirty Napkin and greasy pigskin, empty

glass and filled flask.

Knives and leftover chives.

Washing these things as they are watching

Washing and scrubbing after their grubbing Was

all the reason I wanted to quit my job!


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