There's this small diner
across the street from my apartment
a small segment of culture
suspended outside of time
they serve good coffee there
by the ***
and they serve cheap breakfast food
which is greasy enough
to absorb even the sharpest of hangovers
I was in there
the other morning
sitting at the bar
spending my last spare change
on that old diner coffee
and the people around,
the beautiful strangers
they talked and laughed or read from paper backs,
the man next to me at the bar
ordered a Budweiser in a glass
at ten in the morning
and you just don't see that as much anymore,
the waitresses had a strut about them
like they were straight out of an old New York movie
and the cooks in the back could be heard
laughing rambunctiously over the sounds of the kitchen,
it's a small diner
suspended outside of time
and it is a place you could get lost in
a place you don't want to ever leave