Unmarked Deli

now they don't wait my table;
they let me scribble like a local celebrity
and do my own dishes like an often madman.
my eyes extend friendship,
my ears hear everything,
my hair extends to your laptop 2000 miles away
poofed out like a handball fan afraid to watch but prays.

sun up, your doner kebab is finished,
no girls left for flirting,
no brew left to cuss,
no jokes left to sparkle,
get your neck home.