Aftertaste
by Joseph Veronneau
On my way to work, I laughed
in sympathy for myself;
making it there on the fuel
of candy bars and caffeine.
At two o’ clock in the morning
my friend and I went to Denny’s,
where truckers and insomniacs alike gathered.
We contemplated reincarnation, “what will I be?”
“I know I don’t want to be a piece of pork
gnawed under these peoples’ rotten teeth.”
The neon light of the store sign
was brighter than the dining lights.
Our progress reports
sounded similar, a recap
of the simplicities of corporate values.
My stomach burned the next morning
from too much coffee,
and the thought of repeating
this feat again.