South Central Subway Sandwich: Open 24 hours: Risking our lives so you can eat.

The gangstas ain’t so bad. They’re pretty good tippers.
But the drunk college students make me want to lock the doors, turn off the lights.
Falling out their cars, millions shades of blond hair and blond skin bouncing out
like brand new pennies spilling out a slot machine,
Their futures gleaming about them so bright I can’t look.
Laughing in the parking lot, like they’re bulletproof.

They hang on each other as they decide what bread they .
They deliberate over the olives and onions and pickles. No mayo.
As if their lives depended on it. They pull cash from pockets and wallets
stashed in tiny purses and tight pockets.

I may be a sandwich artist at two am.
I can pull sliced tomatoes from plastic baggies.
I’ll give you 3 cookies for a dollar.
You can make it a meal if you want a drink and a bag of chips.
But that’s the end of my tricks.

I can’t swallow you like you taste good.
You are rubbing alcohol. My mouth is full of sores.