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In Memoriam 

They closed the Brandywine Diner. No more
four-in-the-morning milk and pancakes,
no more careless reubens to break up
a workless afternoon. No more
fries with cheese and gravy, no more
hoping the coffee comes in its worn
white sneakers. No more old acquaintance
stopping you on the way to the john,
no napkins, ketchup, ashtrays, pepper,
no more sticky red-brown leather
or chicken souvlaki or muffins. Elena
Sikamiatios won’t ring you up
up front, you won’t push your arms through your coat,
your self out into the slush because
you weren’t here, you didn’t spend
every final dime beneath heaven and cushion
on home fries, an omelette and tea with lemon
wedged in a corner booth with the three other
people on earth who would live forever.

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