Galaxy of Crumbs

1 November 2015

gotta drop the fryers tonight
in the stainless silver chaos
of the salt machine

they chirp demented
during dinner rush with
nuggets of chicken mush
chips and burnt breadcrumb

as the teens make snapchats
and suicide pacts

I twist the red lever
in the metal guts
coke colour oil drains
a galaxy of crumbs
sinks and collects
into little black dunes

like a nightmare beach
fizzing and chattering

someone calls
the new kid
a faggot

in heat proof gloves
I sweep the crumbs in to
the hole with a steel stick
and flush them out
with a gravy jug

a kitchenhand
tells a story
about the ecstasy
last night

I take the oil cart
to the bin room
the wobbling blue wheels
skidmark kitchen tiles

a cashier bitches
over headset
about a customer
with an accent

I plug in the plastic snake
pump the oil
into the vat
in a moment
of peace

I get a new thing of oil
like a box of wine
full of thick piss
100% canola
australian made
I punch it open
unplug the yellow cap
and a lemon waterfall
fills the fryer
and heats up clean
like a golden bath

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