New York City Style Diner, Dublin by John Doyle

1978. Tom Verlaine, red patent-paint on subway-tiles,

brisket-beef, barbecue sauce, wide-collars, ethnic boys, phallic,

gum-chewing girls bathed in sass, Some Girls; Lou Reed, Bowie's stoned : cocaine-haze;

a 66 bus slips in outside and its queue stare in at you, a shape of Autumn's

fire,

who rolls a ketchup bottle DeNiro style 1978,

with Television on the jukebox of a New York City diner,

red-patent subway tiles,

and the fires it sucks from swearing chefs, and the buses stuffed inside, sweetly.

There should be at least two Hail Marys left on my American Express card

 John Doyle became a Mod again in the summer of 2017 to fight off his impending mid-life crisis; whether this has been a success remains to be seen. He has has two collections published to date, A Stirring at Dusk in 2017, and Songs for Boys Called Wendell Gomez in 2018, both on PSKI's Porch. 

He is based in Maynooth, County Kildare, Ireland. All he asks is that you leave your guns at the door and tie up your horses before your enter.