The Coffee here isn’t good;

Neither is life, though,

so that’s a good balance at least.

I sit in the Coffee Bar/Diner

in my head, “Joe’s All Night Eats”,

and wait for the imaginary waitress

with the heavy eyeshadow, smeary lipstick,

dumpy figure, (complete with Sky-Blue, frilly uniform),

and the obligatory 6 inch long cigarette ash dangling,

to come to the table of my mind and say

“What’ll it be today , Love?”

“Umm..I think I’ll have the depression with self-loathing

and, um, an extra side of guilt if you please..

oh and add some blame sauce if you would as well…

and tell the Chef to make it extra crispy, Thanks, Hon!”

She smiles back, as sweet as spoiled mayonnaise,

and I sit and drink my coffee;

and wait to see a sunrise that I know

won’t come today.

The waitress, (“Diedre” is says on her prodigious name tag),

comes back to the table, platter in hand.

“That was fast!”, I say to her, “Thank You”,

“Wasn’t any trouble, ” she says back in her

ashen, smoke-addled voice….

“No business this early, Love, and besides…

How long does it take to bring someone a mirror?”

“That’ll be 5 years of your life please, plus tip”, she says.

I dig out my wallet and hand her a fiver.

Then I sit and gaze upon my breakfast…

and wonder how I got here.

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