Blue Bottles

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The waiter slides away
Comes back, blue bottle in hand
He slipps ooff his mask

A man walks in
with one leg and half a face,
Picks his only nostril
flicks the bug from his finger

A crucnching sound
I look around at people
Enjoying their hard candy
Busting their hard wooden teeth

I look at my blue bottle
Opening to bite into it
A small yellow slug worms its way out
onto to plate of orange Escargot

The yellow object slithers
Through my dinner,
now spoiled





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