he hunched slowly
to us, clearing
our plates and the morsels
of food spilled carelessly
on the table

i said thank you
in his dialect, almost
vehemently, hoping
my gratitude could
somehow turn more tangible

he didn't acknowledge
but left for the next table

he would do that
all night, armed with
chilli-stained cloths and a cigarette
gripped in the mouth, ignored
by most too absorbed
in their tales of joy and woe