Industrially made,
Old faithful, poor man's lasagna,
Probably sat there for hours;
Souless in the large warmer silver tray,
With the rest of the mass produced meals,
Looking handsome and waiting ,
As it can only do,
For this dirty hungry old working man,
Too beat down to work the kitchen nor willing to spare the time,
I imagine a greasy fat chef in the back, somewhere,
Slaving away, sweating in the oily haze, working the stoves and ovens,
Giant pots shimmering,brown gravy bubbling, as the fat sizzles and jets across the room
He'd rather be somewhere,
Doing something,
Smoking a cheap cigarette,
Having a cold lager,
God forbid, doing something else
But like the rest of us, he needs to make rent, probably pay some debts, feed another mouth or two
Other empty trays roll in,
The murcid and cooking handicapped take not time to clear them,
It's a busy day,
He's glad his shift is almost over
He huffs and forcefuly pours the loveless mass in the the same tray,
Doesn't clean it,
Doesn't care ,
They wouldn't mind,
They don't see,it won't kill them.
I get my turn.
"Poor man's lasagna, please! "
The girl on the otherside of the glass smiles, takes a dig and places it in a plastic container
I reach for a plastic fork and plastic condiments sachets on the counter,
Pay the till operator and head home
Another Saturday night dinner;
It's taste as plastic as the smile from the girl who handed it to me,
But, my tongue doesn't mind
My tummy doesn't mind,
It gets the job done...

@90sbaby
© Prince K

#dinner #food
#supper #kitchen #chef
#lasagna #workingman #blue collar