Look closely at the menu at Fantastic Café.
Corn Beef Sandwich, Cheeseburger, Fish Taco, Teriyaki Chicken, you name it.
Do you know the bespectacled man with a paperback by the rear window?
His favorite line from the novel disappears for him, yes, for a moment.
His coffee gets cold, and so does another cup, the lipstick smudge on.
Do you know, then, the young man in his light-blue work shirt?
His brown eyes are fixed to a soccer game showing on TV.
His mind is busy answering the silent cell phone on his table.
In and out, just that simple.
Their headlights, too, will hurry to
where they are supposed to belong.
Only license plates are eloquent in the dimly lit city,
where palm trees sway from side to side.