the helen keller bistro

it was a dark restaurant.
so dark
that they give you
a seeing eye dog,
a white cane
and a miner's
helmet so that you
can navigate
around the tightly
placed tables.
small candles
are lit on
each table top,
fluttering their
one inch wick
with a wavy yellow
flame.
can you read this
you say to your
friend betty, does
that say, crab soup,
or catsup?
it's blurry, I
can't read it.
I don't know she says,
holding the menu
up to her helmet
light. there's
a picture of a
hamburger I think
on here, or maybe
it's a hat, not sure,
but i'm going to have
that, the hamburger
or the hat, i'll
eat either one, i'm
that hungry.
me too, you say, but
i'll have cheese on
mine, do you see
the word cheese anywhere?
I can't see any prices
either. the print
is so small. can
you see the wine list?
no, she says, but
i'm getting a headache,
it's so dark in here.
I think I just heard
a bat fly over my head.
let's ask the waiter,
here comes one now,
I think, or maybe
it's a customer,
or Dracula coming to
kill us. strike him
with your cane,
and ask him what kind
of wine they have.