The nice kids at Maudlin House were kind enough to let me tag along at this year’s Printer’s Row Lit Fest. Dmitry made me a sign, I sold some stuff, and met several lovely folks just trying to hustle their writing too. A kind fella named Burton Raabe liked my Weirdo Du Jour zine so much he emailed me this poem he had written about a 24-hour diner in Peoria:
Clark’s Cafe
I found an old matchbook from the 70s.
Clark’s Cafe
“We Never Close”
It was true, there were three shifts per day
all year long, all over town.
If you weren’t workin’
There was sumpin’ wrong.
Some worked 16 hours in two shops.
Workers were paid overtime plus holiday pay.
Unions made sure.
Clark’s was open on Thanksgiving, Christmas,
Easter, all holidays.
They had chili, chicken fried steak,
Burgers, fries, breakfast anytime.
And coffee.
Workers going and coming.
Third shift welders from Kentucky
with soft Appalachian speech.
Blacks from Arkansas
laughing, ordering eggs,
sausage and grits.
And coffee.
Cops at midnight,
off their shift.
Kandy, Brandy, Porsha
(not their real names)
getting eggs and sausage.
Ladies of the night.
We were all ladies and men
of the nights.
No longer selling my items in brick and mortar shops. Finally! I have a secure online store where you can snag copies of my zines, friendly user interface for the online shopaholics. There’s also Behind The Zines Distro, as well.