Shrewsbury
Street
I
suppose all that I really want some days
is
to walk into a corner market
with
a lunch counter and a juke box
order
an ice cold Coke
and
listen to men talk about baseball
faulty
starters and local politics
If
you think I’m kidding I swear that I am
sincere
as this is a kind of American zen
I
can practice and not feel entirely phoney
Even
though it’s a wish I probably picked up
from
some novel or old film
and
though I’m sure to be disappointed when
it
isn’t as photogenic an experience as I mean
it
to be, it still won’t matter
There's
always the clatter
of
coffee cups and faux porcelain plates
in
an old diner
on
Shrewsbury Street in Worcester, Mass
which
I do remember
A
diner with 6 booths
and
hometown brewed Polar root beer
where
you could order a plate
of
Boston baked beans
a
wedge of pie and refillable coffee
and
the short order cook
who
was a card
would
let you stay late
talking
about what a good man was
so
long as he got a few words in
and
you managed not to praise the Yankees.
Jeremy Nathan Marks is a poet, teacher and podcaster
living in London, Ontario. His poetry has appeared in places like Lake, Muddy
River Review, The Hopper, Morel Magazine, Nomadic Magazine, Jewish Literary
Journal, The Blue Hour, Up The Staircase Quarterly, Eunoia Review, Word
Fountain, Futures Trading Lit and Green Writers Press. He has poems appearing
in I-70 Review, Chiron Review and All For One Journal later this summer.
Tags:
Poetry
I very much enjoyed this and the sentiment of it..
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this quite a bit. I can see it and imagine the ambience of such a place. I too would like to be a part of a scene as this, even though
ReplyDeleteI am a Yankee fan.