Some nights I just want some eggs.
Eggs, bacon, toast and coffee.
I want to sit in a Big Boy’s or some old Howard Johnson’s from the ’70′s
I actually want to be there,
in the past,
not as I was then but as I am now.
I want to,
eat off of orange tables,
disturb the waitresses with stories on what the future holds,
drink pots of coffee from a bottomless cup.
Look at my reflection in the window, and consider never leaving.
Howard Johnson’s from the 70s … ha … that brought on a flashback. nice.
I enjoyed this, and I generally do not care for poetry. I will make a couple very small suggestions, if you don’t mind: in the first two lines of the second stanza, you may have a stronger reading without the first comma and the word “of.” I’m feeling a hesitation in the rhythm that (for me) doesn’t contribute to the building sentiment.
Good work.
Yum.
really nice stuff! like really, really nice. thanks for sharing!
I want bacon all day every day.
thank you
This is an American echo
I hear the bottomless cup is now in the Smithsonian
Thanks for the memory jog.
Oh, Yes! I have been right there where you are many times! Was just thinking about those kinds of restaurants and experiences this week. Also this week I was wishing I could pick up some of the old Christmas catalogs from the 50′s, 60′s, and 70′s and get lost in them the way I did as a child and teen. So I went online and found me a site that posts exactly the catalogs I wanted to read — every single page of them. I’m in Christmas catalog Heaven!
I love the poem. Well done.
And congratulations of being ‘Freshly Pressed.’
Well, that was supposed to say “on” instead of “of.” Sorry.
i like it, i like bacon too
Great writing, bacon makes life better!
Sometimes you just want breakfast for dinner. There’s something very homey and inviting about it. Great imagery!
im ganna go make me some bacon and eggs, you made me hungry
I love it! And I’m totally making eggs with bacon and toast, and a bottomless cup of coffee… after some sleep
Congrats on being Freshly Pressed!
Suzanne Vega whispered her melodies from a distant space and time, as your poetry processed itself in my brain. Quite lovely.
short and sweet!
Ah, love the sense of nostalgia in this poem.
Orange tables, avocado vinyl booths … and coffee. Heaven.
Beautiful.
I wanna go there too!
This made me immediate think of Hopper’s painting “Nighthawks”. I don’t think anyone is eating on that painting, but maybe they have just finished and are now lingering over their coffee, digesting and dragging their feet on what to do next? Oh and congrats on being Freshly Pressed!
Good post. I learn something totally new and challenging on blogs I stumbleupon every day.
It will always be interesting to read content from other authors and use something from other
sites.