by Jeph Johnson
I spent my youth
in a small cafe
the Brite Spot
of my younger days-
where little Lionel
trains towed toast
and peas and gravy
sliced the ghosts
of thin corn beef
upon my plate
and cattle grazed
the crossing gates
...the flashing lights
of S.O.S.
brought my lunch
on the express
Author's Notes/Comments:
circa 1999. This is one of my stranger poems. It combines a few memories of childhood, including my visits to a small cafe called "The Brite Spot" where they had a model train bring you your food instead of a hot waitress and my memory of something Mom made for dinner called "S.O.S." (which Dad had said is what the recipe was called when it was served to him in the U.S. Navy). I just combined the images these memories presented to me in my head and the poem came out.
tasty little poem... I will comment more after lunch...
You've got a very beautiful poem here (and a captivating title!!!). You are quite talented!
interestign poem.. but y the title..?
A GREAT MEMORIE & A SWEET POEM IT MUST OF BEEN A NAVY SPECIAL BECAUSE TODAY MY DAD STILL HAS SOS AND I HAVE SIMULAR MEMORIES X NO TRAIN WAITRESS THO LOL,THANK'S FOR SHARING
See, I dig this. I definately know you are TALENTED- No doubt! This is a great piece, and I like the explanation at the bottom. Helps us RELATE to you and what you were thinking. Thanks for posting~ Your talent here is appreciated~
Good poem and good humor also, I love it!
Good commentary.
While I have never eaten in a place where food is served by a train, I HAVE eaten at a place like this. It recalls all the little diners you've eaten in over the years. Not to mention S.O.S. (which I like!)