My town lost its only greasy spoon,
Choke and Puke, whatever it was called.
Gone are the creaky floors,
Raised is the sagging roof.
The cramped conditions have been opened up
Stealing the mood,
Now there are trendy colors,
Stenciled pigs on vintage window frames,
Waitresses, and a bar
That doesn’t even have alcohol…
In fairness, there never was alcohol,
But there never was a bar either.
Maybe worst is there are plates,
No more baskets…
No more cash register for a friendly talk with the owners…
Just another personality lacking restaurant.
There was something about the grungy place.
It satisfied my southern sensibilities
And reaffirmed my desire to be a working man.
Tonight I was surrounded by the khaki set
Talking that high brow snoot
Of how great it was that the one place left with soul
Got cleaned up.
Too bad it had die in the process.