They sat in an abandoned luncheonette

Sipping imaginary cola and drawing faces in the tabletop dust

His voice was rusty from years as a sergeant on "this man's army"

They were old and crusty



She was twenty when the diner was a baby

He was the dishwasher, busy in the back, his hands covered with

Gravy

Hair black and wavy

Brilliantine slick, a pot - cleaning dandy,

He was young and randy



Day to day, to day... today

Then they were old, their lives wasted away

Month to month, year to year

They all run together

Time measured by the peeling of paint on the luncheonette wall



They sat together in the empty diner

Filled with cracked china

Old news was blowing across the filthy floor

And the sign on the door read "this way out", that's all it read

That's all it said


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