Shrimp
in Lobster Sauce
Tucked
in a booth in back,
the last
customer of the day
cracks a
fortune cookie,
sips
Oolong as Mr. Hong
locks
up. It’s time for his supper.
Two tall
sons bear
from the
kitchen dishes
his wife
won’t allow
on the
menu.
Platters
of meat
red,
green, brown
huddle
and steam
in the
middle of the table.
When the
Hongs
drop in
their seats
chopsticks
fly
like
beaks. So many bright teeth,
quick as
piranha.
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