The last batch of Chicken Al Pastor

At the Chipotle on 14th & Irving

Is sweating untouched in the

Hot bath on the counter in the

Front of the store where the

Night shift heels aching faces sagging

Begins to close

& Is dumped and then scraped from

Its metal tin into the

Double-lined dull gray trash can

Where it is joined by a scoop of

Browning guacamole a dropped package of

Tortillas plastic forks plastic wrappers

Plastic lids plastic hopes

& Is dragged---the can is---out the side door

And heaved---the bag is---onto the sidewalk by

Practiced steady tired hands

& Is now spilled out---the clear trash bag

Torn open by rat teeth or

Human hands collecting bottles for deposit

Shopping cart rattling in the hushed night

& Is now spilled out on the sidewalk the

Bright red of chicken blood

And a proprietary blend of spices

Dulled by the dull gray sky and the

Dull dirty sidewalk

& Is picked at by a flock of Pigeons like

Vultures over a gazelle on the Serengeti.