I walk
into
McDonald's
and order
my food.
Sweat
drips down
my forehead;
the summer
heat
is melting
my
neighborhood.
The girl
behind
the counter
is young
and
beautiful.
Her eyes
radiate
a tired
energy.
She has
the look of
minimum
wage.
She seems
like she
wants
to throw
down
a tray
and scream.
I want
to scream
with her.
She hands
me
my food
and I walk
to the
corner.
I sit there,
eating
in silence,
as old men
walk
in and out
the door.
