12-15-2016, 12:30 AM
It sounds like a casino but it’s a deli-diner
and only open for breakfast and lunch.
A Ruben sandwich will cost you ten bucks
but it’s the best in town.
A girl-child covered in butterflies. I swear,
right there in the car park.
Pearly Eyes and Appalachian Browns mostly
but some dark purple wings grabbing the sunlight.
I miss my usual waitress, this one is okay
but she don’t slo-talk and call me hon.
Among the usual notables: a pair of weekend bikers,
a big bellied Ohio cowboy with his stiff, white Stetson,
Benny the gay Jew at his favorite table.
The little girl has taken off.
together with a small crowd
of startled sparrows. No butterflies anywhere.
I glance at a booth window,
see reflected, a face covered in old skin.
A little boy winks in and out between the parked cars,
after all these years he is still light on his feet
for a monochrome memory.
Benny waves to me as he leaves.
He drives a yellow Corvette
and always wears a silk suit, tie and shirt.
No one ’round here wears silk, except the rich widows
who live in Oakwood, and they don’t come here
on Sunday mornings.
Coffee comes pouring. Dark purple nails,
nice long fingers. Her hips are friendly,
but she’s a moth. A good dragon or bad Princess
in any other legend. Here in the Golden Nugget
she goes by the name of Sharlene.
and only open for breakfast and lunch.
A Ruben sandwich will cost you ten bucks
but it’s the best in town.
A girl-child covered in butterflies. I swear,
right there in the car park.
Pearly Eyes and Appalachian Browns mostly
but some dark purple wings grabbing the sunlight.
I miss my usual waitress, this one is okay
but she don’t slo-talk and call me hon.
Among the usual notables: a pair of weekend bikers,
a big bellied Ohio cowboy with his stiff, white Stetson,
Benny the gay Jew at his favorite table.
The little girl has taken off.
together with a small crowd
of startled sparrows. No butterflies anywhere.
I glance at a booth window,
see reflected, a face covered in old skin.
A little boy winks in and out between the parked cars,
after all these years he is still light on his feet
for a monochrome memory.
Benny waves to me as he leaves.
He drives a yellow Corvette
and always wears a silk suit, tie and shirt.
No one ’round here wears silk, except the rich widows
who live in Oakwood, and they don’t come here
on Sunday mornings.
Coffee comes pouring. Dark purple nails,
nice long fingers. Her hips are friendly,
but she’s a moth. A good dragon or bad Princess
in any other legend. Here in the Golden Nugget
she goes by the name of Sharlene.