The staff behind the bar
freely exchanging comments
in their language you don't understand
stare blatantly at you
...
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And my memories of a railway restaurant are waiters in a khaki soiled uniform shoving plates with a watery brown liquid spilling half its contents on you and with a look of I dare you to eat this! ! This poem could be a part of a travelogue.Interesting. TO
Love all of this, (now) . Your observations and summing up have left me quipless. Danny