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by Erin Jamieson

cacophony

of marigold taxis

in cities whose perfume

is Tuscan olive oil

& fried cod

a farewell to the

Thai bistro, where

you shared pad thai

and he took your

chopsticks

a farewell to the cafe

with discount espresso

past mid day- he’d order

two even though your

mind was already

racing

a farewell to a family diner

with sticky red polyester booths

his double bacon cheeseburger dripping

onto your salad plate- the salad he

ordered without your consent

I didn’t think you’d want

that much food

these places are full of shadows

spilled salt & pepper shakers

and men who forgot your

name the moment a

new order arrived