It’s not a “kiss my grits” kind of place
like that greasy spoon down the street.
There’s no Mel nor Flo, or even Alice here
and certainly no week-old chili to challenge
your intestines. But there’s plenty of grub
for less than five bucks. Nothing glamorous
about the waitresses; some guys may not
even give them a second look.
Hard work 24/7 over grease and steam
tends to trump the power of any makeup
they might put on, but not their smiles.
Those are always fast, faster than food.
The Salt River doesn’t carry any of their tears;
the valley is often full of sunlight.
And the coffee is always hot.
At a Diner in Phoenix
John C. Mannone, nominated three times for the Pushcart, has work in The Baltimore Review, Prime Mincer, Pirene’s Fountain, Linden Avenue Literary Journal, Ayris, Prairie Wolf Press Review, Tipton Poetry Journal, Pedestal, Rose Red Review, Rose & Thorn, Glass and others. He’s the 2013 Rhysling Chair, the poetry editor for Silver Blade and now Abyss & Apex, an adjunct professor of physics, and a NASA/JPL Solar System Ambassador. Visit The Art of Poetry at http://jcmannone.wordpress.com.