the waiter was
abusive
he took my order
for food I didn’t want
he sneered without belief
that someone
better than him
would bring it out
I wanted to reply
that wouldn’t be hard
but didn’t
and when it came
it was too much by far
for one man alone to eat
a huge kilner jar full
of a ratatouille like substance
which may or may not have contained
the preserved embryo of something
stillborn hidden
amongst the amniotic mush of
tomatoey aubergine zucchini
garlicky oniony salty basil
red baby pepper skin
and thyme
and although all of this
was but a dream
it reflected my own reluctance
to stand my ground
to have belief in my own
self worth
and confidence to interact
with others more confident
and talkative and seemingly
more knowledgeable
than myself
better to look in from the outside
than be
the centre of attention
better to quietly get on and do
than be
forever blowing my own trumpet
it’s where I have ended up
in this void called
twenty first century life
and it’s where I will forever rest my words
in peaceful obscurity