Grendel grabs lunch at the Waffle House

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Grendel grabs lunch at the Waffle House

Who are you talking to,
old man in the corner seat?
Waving your arms to swat
off flies we cannot see, 
the diners shuffle past 
and mothers pull close their sons
as you go shooting the breeze 
with empty swivel chairs—
a napkin set in front
of each—chatting about
the dirt of government
corruption; another thing
we’ll never understand.

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