MEALHAPPY

the cheese filled brunch upon the counter

the guests in dim attire flounder

the sun has given up - what else to do

the dusk filled day would rather stew

upon the dinner table’s rack

upon the lamb’s once sturdy back

lie slices of the freshest mint

drizzled with a salty hint

 of all we’ve taken from the earth

and what remains but broken mirth

as smiles lie deadened on the floor

as guests have slithered out the door

a midnight snack is all that’s left

one would think the hosts would feel bereft

but there is a grand uplifting way

of feeding staff when cannibals have spent the day

guiding pool boys into rooms

swooning like complete buffoons

upon the rotting remnants 

of all those meals

upon the maid’s stillettoed heel

upon the leftover dawning hunch

that food has never been so crunched

beneath the sloth of plenty’s horn

the table napkins look forlorn

the forks have lost their lust for life

the spoons crave each other’s cradled strife

the knives are lurking in the sink

the pool boy's brawn in fleshy pink

the counter grins

blue cheese may blush

the guest who stayed can feel the hush

the sun may squeal

the dew may die

mimosas stagger toward the sky