Archive 11/17/08 - (2)

   

An Inconvenient Recession

              

This morbidly cold Monday night,

Café Manhattan is emptier than everyone's 401(k),

Quieter than the Chrysler assembly plant in Fenton.

Tonight, in welcome peace and silence, I'm debating:

The Central Park Deep-Dish Pie or the South Bronx Lasagna?

 

Where's the throng of pizza- and pasta-loving patrons,

Those who frequented this eatery seven nights a week,

Up until the recent past

(Before the financial skids kicked the U.S., in its fat ass) —

Range Rover–driving yuppies with Ritalin-riddled kids?

 

Indulge me; let me venture this dead-on guess:

They're hunkered down, in their overmortgaged fortresses,

Discovering the subtle nuances of Hamburger Helper,

Savoring the flavorful complexities of Rice-A-Roni,

The sating simplicity of Sam's Club burritos and wieners.

 

And what will people like me do —

Guys who can't even microwave a can of Chef Boyardee —

When Café Manhattans, everywhere, shutter their doors?

Will we have to parade sandwich-board signs reading,

"Brother can you spare an Empire State Pizza/Pasta Combo"?

 

 

 

 

                      

11/17/08 - (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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