A Ruthless Condemnation of the Restaurant Industry

Using the Sestina poetic form I've outlined all that is wrong in the restaurant industry from four of the most common perspectives.

Reviewer copies are available on request.

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Buy, Stanza 3

Afterthought, food! First our drink!

Hormone bro-whores, blonde babe bores, squeeze a breast

before arrest for driving drunk desires.

Culpable kids shift blame to restaurant,

whose game kills slow, now sued fast by loved meat.

Tears pour, whore corps scot free for next weeks eats.

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Serve, Stanza 5

On my knees is your desire?

You entitled fucking cocksuckers, eat

my red-dripping tampon. With knives, service

your own ass you cunt hair tipping piss drinks.

Could I would I bleed you dry, carving breast

with etiquette rules deep into your meat.

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Cook, Stanza 6

Sickness eighty sixes meat:

fake illness mixed with a day off desire

means “To be fired”. Fresh off the boat their breast

beats hard when hired. Untrained contract slaves eat

economy as Canucks shun this drink

of pre-packaged, low paying industry.

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Own, Stanza 3

No, my ants pay for pop drinks.

Healthcare? Take a pound of flesh from my breast.

Overtime? Minimum wage slaves desire

too much. Now do a double, get back to work.

Push the offal before it’s awful meat,

free food: when it turns it’s your turn to eat.

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Full Course

All of the above poems in one handy document!