the coffee shop has closed up

the bacon tasting like shit

stale cigarette smoke

now its chinese restaurant

all the memories gone

like the fag waiter

the fat hostess

the mexican cooks

the counter littered with white trash truck drivers with cat hats, flannels and suspenders

you took many dates there

and they left

you smoking with the check

you were always the carwash

the post office

the little red barn that nobody visited

the nights and days

and mornings

brown carpet and stove with a burned out pilot light

you were garbage cans and obese neighbors

with pink and gold fords

rusted, waiting for death

you were busted up sidewalk, a cracked skull, black mold, a stolen car

you were nights alone listening to it rain

the sounds of trains and babies crying

a jet flying overhead

a little mattress and a day old newspaper

the late show,

you are now off the air.

01/23/2013

Posted on 01/23/2013
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