Pro Forma By Jane Blanchard

Pro Forma
 
Once seated, we peruse the same
     Old menu by and by—
Which dish (or special from the board)
     Would we most like to try?
 
A waitress, new to us, shows up
     With water and “Hello”—
We order wine; she asks, “What else?”
     We say, “We’ll let you know.”
 
She finds the bottle, which she serves
     As nothing much is said—
We take the chance before she leaves
     To make a bid for bread.
 
She brings us some and butter, too,
     Plus oil, if we so choose—
We have to ask for napkins and
     Utensils we can use.
 
In time she does return to take
     More orders, if we please—
A half an hour later she
     Delivers them with ease.
 
Thereafter glasses go unfilled
     Since she cannot be found—
Plates scraped, we wait and wait until
     She brings the check around.
 
A credit card is then produced
     And taken hurriedly—
The slip soon signed and left behind
     Notes due gratuity.

Jane Blanchard lives and writes in Georgia (USA).  Her work has recently appeared in AllegroDelta Poetry ReviewLightMezzo Cammin, and Vita Brevis.  Her fourth collection with Kelsay Books is In or Out of Season (2020).

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