Mental Wanderland (Through the Windshield Glass)

The car idles in the drive-thru
He talks
but I don't really listen

Through the windshield glass
a crescent grin leers
out of the night sky
the outline of a cat body
almost discernable in the
glow surrounding it

Beware the Jabbertalk, it says
the tongue that wags
the teeth that clack
I laugh out loud
disrupting the flow of monologue
He asks what is so funny

"Nothing," I reply. "You were saying?"

As his discourse continues the
Cheshire moon chimes in
And shun the verbose box of chat
I stifle another laugh
but he is distracted
paying at the window

"Did you hear that? They don't have
any salt. Do you still want it?" he says
I answer yes without
looking away from the moon
It shouts, Don't need salt,
need pepper, more pepper!

I smile to myself
He stops talking and
hands me my drink
I look over at him
so classy in his black fedora
for a moment I think
He's the mad hatter

Then I say
"Let's go. We're late."