For Len.

Half in jest
Half as serious as a heart attack
You carefully outlined the criteria a dining establishment
Must meet to earn your business
One: It must have ample parking
Two: It must accept credit cards
Three: It must be open 24 hours a day
Every day of the year

So here I am
At a Greek diner I found in suburbia
I parked in the lot—check
I will tap my AMEX—check
It is 3 a.m.—check
Open on Christmas? I’ll have to check back

I’ve got a cup of coffee and a slice of pie
It’s a tonic that beats a beer
And I’ve got a growing list of things to do
Now that you’re not here

∞         ∞         ∞

All-night joints are hard to find around here nowadays
I guess the night owls subsist on DoorDash
And skip the chance to come into contact
With the cops and the creeps and the crazies
And the the plain-old cranks like me

Yet, I recall, that your mutant power drew them all
To your side at a diner or at a Vegas lounge
They saw you nursing a drink and felt pulled
By some strange force to tell their tales of woe
But no, they will not find you lingering
As it appears you had to go

Now it is the ghosts who must bend your ear
Yes, you are gone from us mere mortals
But fear not, dear friend—the phantoms will find you here

— 30 —