David Aichele’s poem That Time, Revisited appeared here in November 2010. This poem describes a place that could be anywhere. Doesn’t it feel familiar and strange at the same time?
Diner
By David Aichele
My heart beats in
the bowl of a Greasy Spoon, as
it stirs sour notes in cold chicken stock
oily dissonance clanking against the
stained striped ceramic.
Walls the color of egg yolks
contain no nourishment of body
nor soul
nothing pleases the eye or the palate.
Tonight is incomplete
no spice for the rising sun to enjoy
just the blandness and the rain outside,
just the unseasoned mood of
another day, another dollar,
(seventy-four cents after tax),
another argument against
the beauty of mediocrity.
I shower the counter with the last of my change
and a thank-you to Agnes or Mabel with
the beehive
My good deed for the day, I suppose.
