The chef that resigned

 I walked toward the entrance
A chef with knives and fire
My stomach had begun to yearn
The waiter came outside laughing
Asking if he could take another plate

I asked him to use his own discernment
I head out back shocked at the mess
Past bins filled with bones and paper
A dog was waiting beside the kitchen door
Sniffing through yesterday's acidic scraps

I crossed back through parking lot
leaving the waiters and cooking staff
The smell followed under my shirt
I opened my car and turned the engine
Waiting for my senses to forget the foulness

Then that beautiful hunger returned on my drive home
Slowly taking the place of the day's errors and stenches