<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Waitress Brought Him the Menu<\/strong><\/p>\n his wife threw him out pulling the pickup out of the driveway he drove numb<\/p>\n he pulled his vintage ford v8 into a truck stop lot the waitress brought him a menu the truckers returned to their rigs she returned to him\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 asked\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 are you ready to order when she brought him his blt his fingers graced hers\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 good gracious<\/p>\n he was in love for at least the next 30 minutes<\/p>\n he ate\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 finished the last of his coffee with one gulp\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 paid the bill she handed a menu to the 16 year old\u00a0\u00a0 trying to sober up<\/p>\n he stepped into the black night <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Grant Guy<\/strong> is a Canadian poet, writer and playwright. He has over one hundred poems and short stories published in internationally and five books . His plays include an adaptation of Paradise Lost<\/em> and the Grand Inquisitor<\/em>. He is the recipient of many grants and awards.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Waitress Brought Him the Menu his wife threw him out told him he was not handsome told him he was not romantic told him he did not earn enough told him he was a bore in bed pulling the pickup out of the driveway like a thunder clap over the Prairies […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[137,7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17040","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2018-poetry-picks","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17040","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17040"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17040\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17041,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17040\/revisions\/17041"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17040"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17040"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17040"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\ntold him he was not handsome
\ntold him he was not romantic
\ntold him he did not earn enough
\ntold him he was a bore in bed<\/p>\n
\nlike a thunder clap over the Prairies<\/span>
\nloneliness wrapped him up in a sad embrace<\/span>
\nembraced what little remained human in him<\/span><\/p>\n
\nhe sat at the counter\u00a0\u00a0 3 stools b\/w him three burly truckers
\nthey reeked of cigarettes & diesel & sweat<\/p>\n
\nher eyes sd welcome\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 her heart was somewhere else
\ncoffee\u00a0\u00a0 she asked\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 yes\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 he sd
\nhe paused\u00a0\u00a0 his eyes lingered on the midnight angel
\nmore than he should have\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 he turned to the menu<\/p>\n
\na purolator\u00a0 driver sat at a booth by a window
\njane\u00a0\u00a0 a coffee & hot beef sandwich\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 he sd with a wave<\/p>\n
\nhe tripped over his tongue\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 uhhhh\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 & blurted out\u00a0\u00a0 blt
\nhis eyes followed her\u00a0\u00a0 she moved like a dancer<\/p>\n
\nbefore he stepped outside into the cloudless night
\nhe turned to look at her one last time
\nshe was too busy to look up at him\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 he thought\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 a hapless hope<\/p>\n
\nloneliness kissed him on the lips
\nI love you \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0it sd<\/p>\n