Sated
A waiter, a diner, and an appetite without end
Lasagna?
Yes.
Another portion?
Yes.
Another?
Yes.
Steak?
Yes.
More?
Yes.
Fish?
Yes.
More?
Yes.
Another filet?
Yes.
Two?
Yes.
Soup?
Yes.
Borscht?
Yes.
Minestrone?
Yes.
Miso?
Yes.
Rice?
Yes.
Red? White? Both?
Both.
I think we might need
to bring you another table.
Okay.
Just for you, right?
Yes.
One fork? One knife?
Yes.
Are you still hungry?
No.
Why so much?
I like food.
Even more than you can eat?
Yes. What else am I going to do?
The waiter goes to grab more dishes.
There are now three full tables of food
enough for 14.
But there is only one diner
one chair
countless dishes.
A poem by Pemba Umoja