24 October 2008 | Vol. 8, No. 3
Notes from Petrie's Diner
still early I overhear
soft exchanges between murderers
over cold breakfast, fingers
stained with the answers
to both questions
stool pigeon
omelet plain
—
I am buying rifles
from a black & white
catalogue in 1952, outside
a man high up
scrapes years from a
billboard, a candidate's face
and half a Mercedes
—
I marry the waitress
with a coffee ring, she
brings fuel for my broken lamp
pours her language into mine
until I say when, until she
forgets me with my own money
—
Fox news as silent film
hinged vision behind the
cook, the red countries are
bad, this time the camouflage
is beige, we've finally found a
use for airplanes as if the gods
were only imagining us
—
morning left without paying
—
he drips egg on his tie, says
fuck, pulls the napkin from
the knife when the front door
jingles, the piano movers enter
disguised as accidents, dragging
the broken cable
About the author:
Jadon Rempel is a Canadian writer whose work has recently been published in Existere, Dance2Death, dailyhaiku.org, Notebook Magazine, and Monday's Poem by Leaf Press. "Notes from Petrie's Diner" is from a manuscript entitled A Door Walked Through. He is proud to have this first excerpt featured in 42opus. Jadon lives in Edmonton, Alberta with his wife, Michelle, and baby daughter, Aria.
For further reading:
Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 8, No. 3, where "Notes from Petrie's Diner" ran on October 24, 2008. List other work with these same labels: poetry.
