Nov 11, 2014

Ode to Men of the Service Industry

Written by Christine Gosnay

Read by Michael Bazzett

I have bad thoughts, bad. But I am good to you, in my thoughts.
Without impulse, without imp of the perverse,
when you see to me, another world opens its weightless hands,
a dead land where I eat, sleep, savor the strange
because of you, innkeeper, tender, serving man.

You know what to do when I notch knife over fork,
when to come for what I lay aside.
What do I say? You speak for me, it is your pleasure.
For some little while, you make me your empress
and I am your thrall, you bring what I ask.

And I recline alone in the places you set, bright gust of your sweat
riding the back of yesterday’s cologne, with the thought of your hands
working their dead charm around my neck —
to clear the dishes, to unscrew the lights —
serving me, and under the table, I smile with my legs.