Thursday, November 16, 2006

The Majestic ~~ anna hood ~~

The Majestic: open at 5
to rain
red vinyl booths
a counter with stools
donuts under a dome
of plastic, smelling of coffee
bacon and toast
wet wool, wet newspapers
brown puddles.

Elena, young wife hustling
glasses of liquid sun
cups of day starter
flying with empty plates
plastic buckets of silverware,
wiping formica tabletops with a grey rag,
swooshing crumbs from skinny booth seats.

Nick behind his window
curtained with clothes pegs
where pale green order slips dangle
spatulas flying from each hand
buttering toast
flipping pancakes
swirling eggs into a golden
whirlpool, shouts
'Pick em up
come on my lovelies
pick em up
eggs over easy
fried ham sandwich on brown
pancakes and sausage.
Pick em up.
Pick em up.'

Suddenly!
He roars out into the throng
of morning diners
a green slip smashed between fat fingers
'what sum bitch want this?'
spit flies , 'French toast, not overcooked'
A cinnamon coloured sum bitch
stands, 'hey Nick you old bastard!'
An old friend - a quick embrace
kisses on both cheeks
then Nick returns behind his window.
Elena clatters empty cups.
The lovelies pick em up
eggs over easy, pancakes,
fried ham sandwiches.

8 AM the sun breaks through
spatters my coffee with morning.

11 Comments:

Blogger Susan Abraham said...

Me: (exclaiming) "Hey Anna, you're writing about an english breakfast!"

Reading your gentle swaying poem with its vibrant pulse on ordinary life, I feel as if I were in Tom's Diner from a Suzanne Vega song, watching the goings-on.
And then, I too, spied on a bustling Elena & a self-contained Nick & dreamt up a mood.

You never disappoint, Anna. Your poems paint pictures and tell stories as if they were on a carousel. And I the observer, watching your literature swing, in an ecstatic spin.

love

8:40 PM  
Blogger Bernita said...

Awww. NICE picture.

5:25 AM  
Blogger anna said...

Susan, this is an old poem; your yesterday ramble reminded me of it.
(I've left a silly little rant on your today's post. Hope you laugh a bit and don't erase me from your blog (g)
Bernita, thanks again for the visit. Can you smell the grease!

9:47 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That makes me feel...ahem, hungry! ;)

12:05 AM  
Blogger anna said...

hey windscreen fly! Thanks for stopping by. I wish I had thought of that name - it's great!

10:09 AM  
Blogger Roberta said...

An oldy but goody, Anna. I remember this one. I'm so glad you posted it! One of my favorites!

4:31 PM  
Blogger Susan Abraham said...

Dearest Anna,
I did reply with a fair share of my own wicked snippet. My character's name is June. I thought you would respond again.
But how I possibly be offended?
I have an indomitable sense of humour.
You're my friend. I love you.
hugs
susan

3:15 AM  
Blogger Saaleha said...

The diner sounds familiar almost. We all must have seen such a place at some point. And isn't it nice when you're a regular? It feels like coming home.

1:37 AM  
Blogger anna said...

Thanks for re-reading Roberta!
I always welcome your responses.

and Saaleha, thanks to you too!
Yes I think we all have one of these diners in our lifetime.
In Canada there is always one in the big cities name the Majestic usually a Greek proprietor named Nick. Yes they do feel like coming home. (we must tell poor Rajaa (g))

9:39 AM  
Blogger jason evans said...

spatters my coffee with morning.

Of course, that line is priceless.

You are a master of direct and vibrant description, Anna. You always show how few words can create the most vivid scenes.

11:22 AM  
Blogger anna said...

and thank you jason.
You are always so supportive
I am flattered you take the time
to read my silly little ditties

2:56 PM  

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