The chairs were blue and black
the floor was speckled grey
the squat square tables 
were printed wood grain 
with aqua painted rays 

most of what was said at the tables was untrue

the rendezvous of lovers
straight or gay affairs
were clandestine betrayals
nothing here was fair

the wilful and the wicked
the ribald and those plain dumb
came together here
for more pain or simple fun

few considered the consequences of their lies

there was a girl slender
a blonde slash across her her chest
a long ponytail from her shoulder 
hung between her breasts

her sharp pencilled brown eyebrows 
contradicted her eyes
which were as ill defined 
as concrete slurry skies

dull grey as shattered shale
they certainly lacked registration 
of the interest of the boy opposite 
of his panting or condition

she was as forgiving as she was a true blonde 

her date was a smallish young man 
with waves of cascading auburn hair 
framing a long straight nose 
above a jutting jawline where

underneath his struggling beard
his tongue would have been hanging out
if it wasn’t for his jutting jaw
of that there is no  doubt

he tried to be interested in her words
but a lusting body made him waver
he talked in a desperate way
with a flushed look and a quaver

there was nothing honest about the words he had to say 

the family with the teenage daughter
amused she wanted gin
insisted she drink water
but the barman slipped it in

after a few more gins were taken
he met her later outside
her innocence was lost
as he took her for a ride

ashamed at her naivety ever after she denied

the chefs wore haircuts 
chiselled short back and sides 
engraved by the cutter with glyphs 
that meant nothing but misguided pride

everyone of them had a goatee
of one length or another
growing wiry out of cratered skin
and a top knot tied with leather

these bound them all as brothers
but this was no family they were in
they fried, they tossed and flipped
like cooking still food was a sin

most of that was kitchen trickery 
it was only for the show
to impress all the customers 
who didn't care or want to know

the "Only the freshest ingredients" sign was blemished and rotting

the waitress was run off her feet
she had black skin and a black tank top
she looked trim naked and neat
and nothing could make her stop

her apron was black 
it was stiff as a card
her cheekbones were ebony 
razors high and hard 

her gold plastic glasses 
amplified deep black eyes 
that reflected artificial moons 
from the fake silvery sky

skimming the muddy boards
a note pad for orders clear
she attended to demand
pencilling a multi ear-ringed ear

everything she told customers was fiction

the ceiling was low the ceiling was false
the abundant cupboards were bare
the cash drawer opened with a jolt
the counterfeit was there

behind a dado of artificial pine
casual bar staff were busy mixing 
the bar top a deep black lacquered shine
liquid with glasses spilling and clinking

the spirit shelves held coloured water
the air was synthetic scented air
the alcohol was inferior elixir
the bar tenders challenged with a stare

every stare they glared was full of contempt and deceit

everyone in the room was scared
scared of honesty
scared of respect
scared of integrity, dignity and truth
scared because they were there 
to be looked at
scared to look
scared of the culture that 
required they all pretend 

scared to be 
someone else in the end