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Through The Swinging Doors

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Doors sway back and forth
feet furiously scurry through
pots and pans pound together
like clowns at a circus.
Spoons spin creating mechanical reactions
knives chop creating a pop
ticking timers go ding
and out comes the product.
Rushing steam rises
ripples ruffle the sterile surface
polished platters become full
like a buffet in November.
Carts carry everything beyond
pushing past the rectangle opening
blithe disguises appear
compliments are handed over.





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