He

sits alone in the diner
next to the wall near the kitchen.
Stares at his table that's worn to the
grain from quick random fingers
that offered support.
Hardwired
Our brain, like a hard drive is wired
with lies, and with logic, and fantasies too.
See the girl
who's a girl who turns into a waitress
who says with a soft voice,
Hello?

poem by Rick Stokes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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