The Worst Excuse
I can’t recall the origin of this poem, probably an observation that led to an extended metaphor that led to conclusion about how we let each other down for the poorest reasons.
Like a chef in the alley
smoking beside a dumpster,
its dents bending the spring light,
who watches five guys after
the party ends, carry folding
tables above their heads,
who knows five million recipes
for letting people down
and cooked the worst tasting one.
