Pizza Dreams

pizza grease
the familiar lard
hardening to softened gunk
my hands are soft
working in the dough
heat wavers in squiggly lines from the oven
my face tans with the crust
seperating cheese
and slimy pepperoni
watching the timer and the oven turn
smells like a teenage party
acne causing and happy
the crunch of the knife dividing
i can't hear my coworkers
over the buzz of the fan
trying so hard to combat the heat
each cycle, the pizza darkens
browning spots and polka dots of grease play on the oven window
my apron accumulates a thousand happy customer's worth of pizza grease
and the calm of only worrying
about rotation and burning
isolates me
sooner than i know
the clock will tell me to leave my mark
and all the crowding thoughts of life
will come back
and i will smile
because i enjoy customer satisfaction
its a worthwhile way to occupy my time
while the real world waits
and i will come back tomorrow
with clean smoky hands
wash them
and once again watch them
as they perform the lifting and the placing of small large and extra large
american dreams
into cardboard boxes
dont forget the dollhouse table.

Click Complete Anthology for All Poems

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Please Define the Word - 2014-10-15

Soldiers - 2014-10-15

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