God's Kitchen
-------------------------------------------

I get up every morning And get on the escalator to heaven I used to have to ride chariots of fire Driven by Gandhi But all he did was take my money So I asked to have this installed Today It’s broken And there’s a sign at the bottom that says Out of order Sorry for the convenience So I start walking When I get there I’m ten minutes late I wave down a cab Driven by Gandhi All he did was take my money But I won’t complain I need the ride And he drives every cab here When I get there The big man is already gone Leaving me order forms And a very sketchy prep list My souchef Mike walks in behind me And I hand him the prep list Alright Mike We’ll need Ten cases of babies in the oven by eleven A box of lottery winners thawing in the cooler We need to blanch the rest of the promotions And flash fry a few bonuses Find the few true loves we have in the cooler And throw them on line That’s all I can remember So you fill in the rest Mike begins to make lists as I fill out order forms And turn on equipment We’re good on lost ambition and askew truth Hope is always in short supply But luckily enough we always have Plenty of distraction to keep anyone Filled to the point Where living with yourself Can be a full belly experience Prep is done all day By best prep cook Donny Shucks a case of the perfect fishing day At a speed that would make St. Peter’s head spin Bart bakes off loaves and loaves Of families holding on by a thread In a way that makes the Sermon on the Mount A midnight snack And Rick Minces all the small miracles You see and hear everyday Flowers blooming Constellations of stars and clouds The first snow fall After an eight-month wait The way light hits lakes and makes A gleaming surface of gleaming light And the feeling of a job well done And those are just for some of our appetizers The dinner shift begins and my line cooks arrive Wayne is a massive white guy who wears small glasses And works the broiler Like an easy bake oven Derrick is a tall lanky black guy who insists On calling his now restrained Afro Mochila He’s working the sauté station My grill man Is a Big hipped Thick thighed White woman With a sister card Named Wendy And rumor has it She once made the angel Gabriel cry The other cooks file in as the orders come through And I’m expoing Pulling tickets Yelling orders I need three happy days in the park On the fly I need a traffic jam breakup Light on the butter I need a New York strip Medium rare for Jesus Ordering Three getting luckies Five new puppies Seven shopping sprees And a lottery winner Ordering Ten lazy Sunday afternoons Four true loves And six clear blue skies What Lenny? You’re out of tomatoes? And you didn’t tell anyone? Jesus Christ! What? How’s the steak? I barely got to taste it We need tomatoes Oh come on Please? Fine There you go Thanks Can I go? Sure Tell Mary I said hi ‘Course And as Jesus leaves the kitchen Teresa, a new asian girl who everyone agrees Is a reincarnation of Mother Teresa Come in crying saying there’s a man out front Who wants to talk to god I bust through the kitchen Walk right up to the customer And punch him in the face You want to talk to god? Well he isn’t here All you’ve got is me and Mike Wayne and Donny Derrick and Bart Wendy and Rick And Teresa That waitress you just made cry The same one who gave up the kidney You are currently abusing So shut up Sit down And eat your vegetables My shift ends Gandhi gives me a ride home No charge And as I walk in There’s a good night sleep wrapped in tin foil With a note that reads Thanks From God

Submitted on 2007-06-12 08:44:00     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]