On the southeast side of town
a diner filled with tweakers and sleepers
prom queens and cheap feelers
slide down into the booth

dominoes laid out in half-hearted plays
nobody cares, nobody wins

while the jukebox changes tunes
that moment's breach when small conversation
becomes revelation
when words become musical overtures

thoughts composed from negative space
no one's surprised, no one refrains

the door is always open
the service is reliably unconcerned

off duty policemen looking the other way
at the waitress with the rose city lips
earning criminal tips

dirty dishes get piled high
the griddle's full with hotcakes and hashbrowns
busboys making the rounds
things empty and fill up again

the door is always open