Pretty Damn Good
by Ananda Osel
2 young females sit on my
front right and talk in a
soft yet urgent tone,
probably about
their love life.
to my direct left is a couple
who stare continually into
each other’s eyes and
laugh about everything,
and nothing at all.
the vietnamese cooks are behind
me chattering loudly.
i cannot understand vietnamese
so i tune them right out;
like they were the
souls of my lost
loves.
others are everywhere,
talking about this, that,
and the other thing.
they are angry, happy,
sad, in the middle,
unsure, and
together.
in the seat directly across from me
sits no one, just a bowl
of noodles and a pair
of chopsticks.
i know what i must be done
and i do it.