04 August, 2015

A Poem about Luby’s, Written as Very Short Prose

I was going to start by writing about Chaucer,
but then realized I just wanted to use the name
Cafeterias are not about ego or myth
This was not an epic voyage
Luby’s was just for us, No Mother, No Mother Earth
She hated it and He loved it and so we’d
Go to LUBY’S! And I think the booths were maroon
Definitely they had those CHAIRS WITH WHEELS
on dark carpet, and our sweat from Texas would get cold
because of the a/c and the green jell-o we fought each other for
The food was all delicious and to expound upon this would
be a disgrace, a sweet cheapening trick to ruin a purity
Thick beige plastic and divisive migratory traditions
washed down by as much Sprite as possible
Pick your own poison! We were taught autonomy and
Eat all of it and Don’t play with it and Stop crying
Luby’s was the closest I have had to unsupervised gluttony
A hellpit and a sanctuary serving everything except regret

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