Tagged: burger joint

at the 24-hour

at the 24-hour
diner, there are
moments
when
there is no one
to look at, no
bonds to build
or break, and
the waiter has
stepped away
for a smoke.
it’s just you
and your prime
burger, with all
the trimmings, a
basket of sweet
potato waffle
fries, and – while
you’re alone –
that elusive
malted milkshake
.
20120403:0848
y

20080319

it’s one of those meeting-John-Darnielle-
in-a-New-York-City-burger-joint-with-a-
strawberry-shake-in-one-hand-and-
fries-stained-fingers-on-the-other
moments –

when you have to let go
of your cheeseburger and offer
greasy lips as your last resort
smile, while he hangs by the swinging
door, trying to forget that he had pretended
your name was easy to remember

and he’s coffee, and you’re
milkshake, both heading
straight to hell
in a lincoln continental
where he will certainly refuse
to serve golden boy peanuts

and then we remember that
there is breathing involved
and we open
once again
to let the impossible
in
.
20080319:1625
y