|
|
The Golden Arches
His beatific smile beams down
From a billboard just Off-Broadway
Gracing Chinatown
With painted-on apple-pie lips
A crown of red
And matching oversized shoes
Extending beyond his rectangular canvass
His hair and hands
Cut off
By boundaries that he defines
Larger than life and expanding
From one to a million - burgers, stores, countries
His garish yellow and red
Strikes the eye, submitting it to
His kinetic action, movement
Constant progress caught in a frame
Conflicting with the
Graying white background
Seemingly ancient, still
A painted pheasant takes in the scenery
He exclaims something in foreign symbols
Perfectly neat and tidy
Ending with an exclamation point,
The Golden Arches and "Smile!"
Mixing messages to suit his audience
So here I am
Waiting at an "authentic" restaurant
With my suitably diverse friends of Asian descent
We are served - but ignored
Until Ed utters the magic word
In Cantonese, of course
Dammed if I know what it means
But they surely do
So we smile quite happily at each other
And eat our steaming food, content with our world
Under the Golden Arches
|
|
|