Eating Astroburger
with Michael C Ford
Counter girls with breasts
like1950 Cadillac bumper bullets
speak Iambic chitchat
while scribbling greasy food orders.
Ford requests a BURGER,
like an Allusion to his best friend
from high school.
“Hey Burger!”
He Anapests ONION RINGS
like it was a new word.
“ON-ION-RINGS.”
In this Formica counter eatery
on Santa Monica Blvd.
the challenged and witty
Romance and Satire,
10:30 PM
non-suburban time
They come
after show, before dancing
in glittered flip flops
torn tees
and unstrung business suits
filling booths and tables
like a Cinquain.
A couple shares a love Sonnet shake
with 2 straws.
A stood-up jock bellows worn out Ballads
to his buddies.
Poet divas Enjamb the booths
with smart ass and chuckles
as they finish one another’s sentences
slanting Heinz with sighs.
One guy, it’s hard to guess his age
by the clothing,
holds a teenage entourage captive
flexing Anaphora.
I am inspired to write a Sestina
from watching repeating types in this
West Hollywood restaurant.
All the while Ford says nothing,
End Stopped by burger, shake and fry.
