History Buffet

At the head of the line was a police dog
on a coroner's leash

We heard the rumbling stomachs of guards
their hands were delicate and moonwhite

Jesus was our waiter, I recognized
him despite the fake bandit mustache

A cloth covered with dark fingerprints
was hanging from his side

We danced to the frantic chewing
of a leg trapped in steel

Wasted children read the menu
by the light of headlines in flames

Our salad was a convoy of whispers
and a hearty shark fin soup that never sleeps

Leftovers were put in a bag
and thrown to a three legged dog

Silent teacups were our only witness
and the senile busboys who forgot them