Two middle-aged youth ministers (perhaps)
In a convertible babble away
A dialogue but poorly understood
By a seeker wanting a burger and fries
                                                     and truth

Their message seems to be that a pilgrim
In search of meaning might find happiness
                                                     ­     and lunch
At a famed neon-y fast-foodery
And so I gird up my billfold and I go

I push the red votive button and wait
And wait
                    And wait
                                    And wait
                                                       And wait
                                                                ­             And wait

And in the end go empty away