El Azteco

greasy Mexican fare
indifferent service
yet they put something in the food
and we all come back for more

I’ve known people on the inside
and none of them will tell me
what the secret ingredient is

I’m friends with employees
I’m in love with a former waitress
and all of them are addicted to the food they serve
and they won’t tell me why

people with good taste and discriminating buds
go bonkers over the topopo salad?
nothing but a pile of lettuce

that’s strange

objectively the food isn’t great
lots of cheese lots of beans lots of rice
but it smells different than other Mexican food
and the waitresses smell different when they leave

I don’t know
but I think they sprinkle cocaine over their food

1 Comment

Filed under poetry

One response to “El Azteco

  1. Karena

    For my own personal reasons, I find this poem absolutely wonderful. Especially when you say “and the waitresses smell different when they leave”. I spent many a day trying to scrub that Topopo salad smell off of me after a shift.

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