Mello’s Diner

no longer…

a truck stop special
served up good
as greasy

as 3am creeps around
the gals from quiet corner
pour into booth
beside me

during slower times ’cause
my island eyes hint
a deep need for

no tricks, no tempt of treats
just a heavy helping
of raw speak,

bless the queens
that ran these

I used to write the nights away in a downtown 24 hour diner. The sex workers best knowing those corners would often join me for quite the inspired and exasperated chat sessions in my corner booth. This is written in tribute to their wisdom, strength and humour.




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