The steak and eggs were three ninety nine
and just about as good as you’d expect
but after walking the four miles to that forsaken diner
they tasted of manna from Seven Eleven
or someplace twice as good
like Seven Twenty Two
or Fourteen Twenty Two
or Wa Wa’s.

In the crush of the diner
I could hear the rain beat on the window
and not my skin
which was a pleasant change.
It was noisy with people
and not the splash of cars riding by me
in the steady postage.

The steak and eggs
for three ninety nine
was not life changing
but being there
in that space
with that meal
drying off
was transcendent.

Eventually,
I knew
I’d have to get a tow truck
to pick you up
but only after dessert.