a little cart
table to table
busing dishes.

i’ve watched her
a thousand times.
don’t know why
but for the first time
i see her
as a
sexual entity.

through flank
but a bright
kind face

she has no ring.
i wonder
if she’s
one of the bosnians
whose husband
died in the war.

she has
a gentleness

as if the venality
and bloodletting chorus
of the world
are poison to her.

this makes
my heart
reach out
across the diner.

i ask myself
if i could
be true to her.


i would
piss cold rain
on her heart

like all
the rest.

by Justin Hyde

This entry was posted in Justin Hyde. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to bahijra

  1. Ron says:

    well done

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