Dinner in a Quick Lunch Room

by Stephen Vincent Benet

Soup should be heralded with a mellow horn, 
Blowing clear notes of gold against the stars; 
Strange entrees with a jangle of glass bars 
Fantastically alive with subtle scorn; 
Fish, by a plopping, gurgling rush of waters, 
Clear, vibrant waters, beautifully austere; 
Roast, with a thunder of drums to stun the ear, 
A screaming fife, a voice from ancient slaughters!

Over the salad let the woodwinds moan; 
Then the green silence of many watercresses; 
Dessert, a balalaika, strummed alone; 
Coffee, a slow, low singing no passion stresses; 
Such are my thoughts as — clang! crash! bang! — I brood 
And gorge the sticky mess these fools call food!

Stephen Vincent Benet (1898 – 1943 / Pennsylvania / United States)

Posted on April 29, 2015 and filed under Poetry & Quotes.