Attention Seeker

Buzz, buzz, buzz, bouncing off the walls and down the hall
to the flaming kitchen where you’ll easily be ignored.
The table sign should say, “Press buzzer if you don’t need anything.”
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
If I died here waiting, which could happen these days,
this wouldn’t be a place I’d envision as a heaven.
Starving, I’m so far away they can’t hear what I’m saying.
In the name of Holy Hannah, as my father used to say,
Why the hell can’t I catch someone’s attention in this place?
My dad could speak Korean; it would be good to have him here.
Forget the table buzzer, his speech would give him cred
with this staff that’s maybe not the worst I’ve ever encountered,
although they look as if they might cut off demanding
non-Korean speakers’ waiving arms and fry it up for them.