On my selling on a day in the blazing May
I was looking for a small place for a light bite
when I noticed through my heat dazed eyes
the signboard "Snack Bite".
Inside was the peaceful coolness of a suburb bylane
and I would have pretty soon dozed off
but for the strong smoke of spice, garlic and onion
that shut out every senses except hunger.
No menu card, sir, the waiter cut the silence,
on our menu at this hour is only fish fingers,
all else sold out.
No problem I said, I have been here for a light bite.
How many pieces come with a plate?
Ten, sir, superbly fried.
By ten minutes the steaming thing was before me
ten red crispy slices of fish fingers
and I immediately got into business
remembering what my ma used to say,
To a hungry mouth every food tastes fine
and so neat and fine the pieces looked
so artfully arranged on the plate like human fingers
I reflected on the pause having finished the fifth.
Human fingers? I froze in terror,
why didn't I notice
leftovers of crunched bones and nails
on my plate?
The only other man at the table, I heard
was ordering for another plate.
