I came for quiet.
Window seat, soft jazz.

Instead,
they arrive with the force of a wrecking ball
dragging their cologne
like a dog on fire.

Their laughter all elbows:
sharp, insistent.
Hollering at the waitress
as though she’s made of nothing
but rust and obligation.

One slaps the other on the back
like he’s trying to resuscitate a corpse.
He bellows something about crypto,
about a woman he ‘smashed’;
I lose my appetite
somewhere between the syllables.

They order steak
so rare it lows,
chew with mouths agape,
a symphony of gristle and ignorance.

Outside, a crow watches me
through the glass,
black-eyed,
compassionate.

We understand each other.
Trapped among carrion
but still dignified,
still trying
to eat
in peace.

Previously published in Tennessee Voices Anthology 2025-2026