The oversight of day.

The thinkers living on caffeine.

The poets and playwrights.  The

The oppressed and faithful.  They

all come to the Midnight Diner.


A box car express rumbles by as cars

with dents and paint scrubbed by

desert winds breach the dirt parking lot,

gliding over pot holes and crushed

beer cans.


Neon signs flash hot food

over dirty windshields.  A flash of

music escapes the diner door.  Cigarette

smoke and burnt steak with onions

merge into a welcoming aroma.


Patrons of the night find a seat.



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