Denny's Restaurant Poem

I awakened to the dreary foreboding and whistling of the wind;
As sighing intervals portrayed “don’t go to work at Denny’s tonight
‘Twill surely be their humour antics that will kill thee out right;
New Zealand’s Harold will cover it all and those here will exclaim:
“Ah yes, I remember her quite well~, ah~, what was her name…? ”

Maybe it’s enough to stay in bed, indeed, and introspectively wonder:
“What if it should be…? ”
I knew of Caron with her charming bold wit~,
And Margaret, too, who sneaks up on you~,
And of course, Miss Franks~ whose always there~,
But what evidence could be proved~ to anyone, anywhere?

They all hide~, until in the break room they sit.
I thought I’d die~, yesterday, and still their antidotes wouldn’t quite!
Yet I survived, but drollery stricken scheme might lay in-store tonight? !
This is not the normal Denny’s, as anyone from America would say~.
Why shouldn’t I listen ‘creatively‘ to the wind; and stay at home today?

by ArmourQuill Hunter

Comments (1)

Couldn't resist looking in this one. I've often been amazed at how different the different Denny's are - and how different the same Denny's could be, depending on who was staffing at the time. I've been amazed, too, at how anyone could stand to put up with the customers there. This is a very fine poem. Hope you went ahead and stayed at home - but then, I reflect, perhaps the customers would have missed a beautiful experience. But then - maybe your readers got it, instead.