A poem I found at a hotdog stand
It is nine thirty on a Sunday morning.
I go to Home Depot to buy a wrench.
On my way out I stop at the coffee stand.
The attendant is young, tall, and beautiful.
Me- “Is it too early for a hotdog? ”
Her- “Is it ever too early for a hotdog? ”
Me- “Well if they are still frozen, yes.”
Her- “It’s never too early for a hotdog.”
Me- “My god we are descending into philosophy and it isn’t even ten AM yet.”
Her- “It’s never too early for philosophy.”
Me- “It is usually to late.”
She hands me my hotdog and looks directly at me with unearthly pale blue eyes.
Her- “Do you know where the condiments are? ”
Me- “Yes I practically live here. My joke is that I am in an experiment to see if a human
can live on hotdogs alone. It’s for NASA, The Manned Mission to Mars.”
Her- “It seems to be working so far.”
Several minutes later, driving away, I think
If I were thirty years younger and a foot taller
I would be in love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If this is perhaps a true story....then...there just might be...a depth of meaning... somewhere within...those last two lines! Methinks.