the artists

you see them
in the back rooms,
behind the counters,
the artists, who
aren't artists at all,
throwing eggs
onto the fry pan
slinging
hash browns,
dropping dollops
of batter
onto the griddle.
artists
with a flair.
wiping their
brows, adjusting
their hair nets
and soft hats.
their backs hurting
from the long
day of bending over.
artists staring
at their canvas,
working
swiftly at
their craft.
never finding a
museum wall.
but still a glorious
creation
on one plate after
another. and for them.
it's enough.
it's enough.