Food for rejecting his feet
The martinis passed out,
reclined back into the back
below chairs behind
tables of clam broth.
The building filled with cream and
greenery seeped into the water.
Yellowed bodies plunged
into cans of puréed corn.
The food on the floor fumbled
in the thick music and smiled
at her scooping hands,
then coasted to the other
end of the table.
None of this is as thick as it should be.
So I tug rain into the kitchen
to scare the female ferret
straight out of my salt shaker.