"But first, baby, as you climb and count the stairs (and they total the same), did you, sometime or somewhere, have a different idea?
Is this, baby, what you were born to feel, and do, and be?"

-Kenneth Fearing

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Another Greasy Spoon


It's easy to believe that nothing is changing

outside the breakfast all night restaurant,

where you tap a cigarette in a square glass ashtray.

You wish for a waitress to ask what you want,

to bring you dark coffee that you can make light.

What you get is a waitress that wants to be gone

and coffee that you can still see through at night.

But, it's here, so it's fine. You drink it and smoke.

You try to forget that outside is your life,

and it hasn't paused, at all like you'd hoped.

Since it first turned bad, it hasn't turned around.

A booth for four, tonight, is only for you and your ghost.

Your waitress sets the plate. You hear the sound

but don't really notice. She freshens your coffee up

and now you look normal, behind bacon, eggs and hash browns.

You stay until the endless cup of coffee is too much

and there's no choice left, but to walk into November,

wondering why this is always what comes after love.

-Brent Allard


  1. apple pie and OJ. That is what comes after love.

  2. A booth for four, tonight, is only for you and your ghost.

    taking that one with me to a phone booth.