Brandywine Diner 1959
It's three o'clock on a Sunday
morning, a grey curtain of smoke
surrounds you, at Brandywine Diner.
Two men share a booth,
both sip coffee from small white cups,
their finger’s play with white bags of
sugar…
Across the aisle a young girl sits…
alone. She stares thru her personal fog.
She holds the wrong side of her cup,
she crushes one cigarette, and lights another…
fog thickens.
A man; hung-over, a black and white counter
leans on his arm’s, his clothes soiled by coffee
spilled, and peeks between his finger’s
into the mirror hung,
below a stack of Rice Krispies, Corn Flakes,
Shredded Wheat. A face of a stranger.
A gust of wind pushes the glass door, open…
blinded by iridescent green. Iridescent green
opens the eyes of the man leaning on the counter…
shimmering green catches the attention of the man
reading the paper… startles the girl smoking her
third cigarette.
A patron struts past the counter, all eyes stare;
she flops into a booth in the corner,
next to a man wearing a black leather jacket
Hells Angels, scrolled on his back…
That’s…. when I poke my finger
Into a slit
in the upholstery,
picturing the person who held the knife.
Nancy Duci Denofio
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