-Steppin' out-

–––Let’s meet at the Grand Opera Diner;

We'll order from the menu's elegant penmanship,

Dressed appropriately at our seats.

–––At the diner down by the river,

The waitress calls me “Honey”

And I'll order the meatloaf plate, double-up on the mashed.

–––The guy at the steamer's hard-working

And meatloaf is laid-out one thick slice

Upon the heavy utilitarian plate.

At the diner down by the river,

One thick slice is the distance the stomach can run.

–––Let’s meet at the Grand Opera Diner;

Order from the elegant cursive gracing its page.

–––At the diner down by the river, the menu

Is slipped inside a sleeve of stiff, yellowing acetate.

It's been this way since the diner rose-up in stainless

Steel at the banks of the Taunton.

–––Let’s meet at the Grand Opera Diner.

The light is softly articulated.

Everything seems to be anticipated.

Let's meet at the Grand Opera Diner.

–––The diner down by the river is cranky.

The light slaps with a harsh fluorescence. 

Nickel-plated jukes at the walls of its naugahyde
Booths offer Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Fats Domino,

And the Everly Brothers harmonizing a tough-strung "Bird Dog."

–––Let’s meet at the Grand Opera Diner;

order from the menu's elegant penmanship:

–––"I'll  have the Mezzo, Coloratura on the side, and...

Easy on the Vibrato."