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The Greasy Spoon
several formica red tables
glass shakers of pepper and salt
big plastic tomatoes I wanted to squeeze
and shaped bottles of sarson’s own malt.
netting on all of the windows
scratch marks from chairs on the floor
ashtrays with notches to rest cigarettes
and 'open' and 'closed' on the door.
menus upright in a v-shape
the 'royals' adorning the wall
food through the fog of benson & hedges
with no one complaining at all.
my past was a foreign country
before chains, regulations and brunch
places I knew from those misty-eyed times
are no more and have all 'gone for lunch'.
Copyright ©
Gary Radice
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