In front of me sat a bowl of bird feathers.
I was at breakfast at Flying Star cafe.
Upon pointing out the error, I was brought
a bowl of small rodent bones collected under owl nests.
No amount of sugar made it taste good,
so I complained.
Management brought me a third bowl:
this one filled with fossilized crustaceans
and a garlic butter sauce in a dipper cup.
It was a little early for a white wine,
so I ordered white grape juice to accompany this meal.
The walrus milk did soften them up, but not so much
that they lost their crunch.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
Flying Star is my favorite Albuquerque cafe. Their menu is much better than the one described above. For a few hours, at least 5 days a week, I am found at the Juan Tabo Flying Star sipping ice tea, writing, chatting with other regulars.
When I first moved to Albuquerque 12 years ago, I had trouble remembering the name and often called it Flying Squirrel. Squirrel has now become Flying Star’s nickname among the people who hangout with me.
My usual habit is to walk the 2.5 miles there or ride my bicycle a 7 mile route that gets me there. It depends on the weather and my mood.
Love & Light