male gorillas [ruth stone]

At the doughnut shop

twenty-three silverbacks

are lined up at the bar,

sitting on the stools.

It's morning coffee and trash day.

The waitress has a heavy feeling face,

considerate with carmine lipstick.

She doesn't brown my fries.

I have to stand at the counter

and insist on my order.

I take my cup of coffee to a small

inoffensive table along the wall.

At the counter the male chorus line

is lined up tight.

I look at their almost identical butts;

their buddy hunched shoulders,

the curve of their ancient spines.

They are methodically browsing

in their own territory.

This data goes into that vast

confused library, the female mind.

Ruth Stone