Not Of Cafe Material Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Not of Café Material

I walked into a café, asked the man behind the counter
for a pork sandwich
Wait he, said I´m plucking a chicken.
You can pluck that chicken later after giving me what I asked.
Ok, said and grumbled about difficult old men.
You have to clean your hands, they are feathery, I came here
for a sandwich without chicken fluffs.
I ate, mainly because I was hungry, paid and left.
At the door, I said you better get a job at a chicken factory,
as it is the café business will shut by lack of consumers.
Angrily he threw several bratwursts after me I ducked
like Bush did when a shoe was thrown in his direction,
and the street dogs had a feast.