Everyone in the know
knows, those who live
up here in Riverdale,
Menchie’s is where
everyone here goes:
Yankees fans after Bat Day,
hurried dads in the Kosher tradition,
cool, hip, young assholes
making fun of a mom
their own age,
parallel-parking her
white Dodge SUV
perfectly at the corner,
Asian and Greek families
(mostly of girls, who IPhone video with their pals: “We’re at Menchie’s!);
a grown-gay son auditioning
at a play downtown this week,
And me and him,
who’s complaining
of a brain-freeze headache;
he’s too nervous about
being chosen for a trial
while on jury duty this week.
Ah, lawyers are
no longer exempt,
like the rest
of us shmucks.
Buck up,
my lonesome cowboy,
we all get to
do this shit,
But for now,
please enjoy the
ambiance
outside;
the pink-bricked apartment
buildings behind sunglasses,
the birds dive-bombing
in the sky,
the elder ladies muttering
about politics,
Darling, this is
a good day;
the pineapple sorbet
is so fresh…