June 21, 2011

Greasy Spoon

The sting of hot grease, sweat and onions hits as you enter
Various characters scattered about, eyeballing, “Who came in?”
Every other fluorescent light overhead is burned-out or flickering

Stale donuts piled on a plate under a smeared glass cake cover
Coffee so thick it won’t spill, served in a chipped coffee cup,
The cup’s finger loop too small for any adult’s finger to fit

Past-cute waitress in a faded blue uniform with a stained apron,
Her hairspray defenses strong against the cook’s steamy assaults
Her too-thick blue eye shadow somehow clashes with everything

Shiny yellow egg-eyes with brown-specked edges stare up from pale plates,
Sharing space with rubbery bacon and a mound of charred potato shards
Tums and Rolaids wait in a cracked-glass counter by the cash register


  1. ha. sounds like a great breakfast to me...when you want to go.

  2. Yep, I have been there before.

  3. Extraordinary from the every day, Bubba. This is magic. This is art. This is life.

  4. Wow! lovely description,i could really see the scene..

  5. Nice morning ~

    Love the words and images ~


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