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You remember me, dissolved in water: a bowl of bright lights and salt. Gelatinous solvent seeping into obscure segues. I’ve come to tell you I’ve opened up a diner. Yes a diner. I need to hire a middle-aged Mexican short order cook—possibly named Fernando, and a redheaded waitress—definitely named Flo. We’ll serve crisp hash browns garnished with freshly peeled feelings. Sizzle bacon with a side of psychoanalysis. The black and white TV will rerun 80’s episodes of Donahue. You can be the dishwasher! We’ll all split the tips. Carpool. Create a Wednesday night bowling team. Our buzzing marquee will sporadically flash a muted Flagstaff-sunset-in-September orange that reads: Almost 24 hour get your grub on. And just after dawn, you can be the one to turn the sign around on the front door declaring We are officially open. We are almost always open.

(originally published in the San Pedro River Review)


About Daniel Romo

Author of Apologies in Reverse (FutureCycle Press, 2019), When Kerosene's Involved (Mojave River Press, 2014) and Romancing Gravity (Silver Birch Press, 2013). I'm partial to prose poems. Alliteration. And fragments.

6 responses »

  1. also… i don’t know why anyone would hire a waitress whose name WASN’T Flo.

  2. this is solid. the deconstruction cafe! derrida could have a sandwich named after him, and i’ve no doubt it’s a meet-up with donnie and the Dude on bowling nights… it’s strange how very much this resembles the things that go on in my head. … which, coincidentally, is also almost always open…
    is this a break from your usual? do you use this style/form often?

    • These things go on in your head too? Weirdo :p As for style/form, I generally write nothing but prose poems these days. The first line of this poem was given to me by a friend and I ran with it. This is more optimistic than the stuff I’ve been writing. Derrida, bowling man, and the cast of Alice would all be most welcome here. Most welcome…

  3. Your affirmation = like?


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