By the slice

Brylcreem smiles

old school chivalry

Sexist Italian New York

Worker bee Wannabe

Eat at joes I saved you a seat

Listen to the good ole rockin oldies

Swaying to that beat

Tomorrow I’ll be gone

Red benches will remain

Black and white checkerboard wall’s refrains

Stacks of boxes

Stock photos all the same.

The stains

Red or white? Green

Thick or thin?

Watcha ah mean?

Plastic straws

Forks and knives

Fountain soda

And staying alive

Pictures of the old country

Along the American dream

Al dente not too


As long as comparisons

Don’t bemean

Together we taste better

Flip that pie into the sky

Smoke some herb’s

Let that onion make you cry

I think I’ll go for takeout

Or you prefer I wine and dine?

What is cheap for you is good for me

I’ve got the dough

if you’ve got the time



It’s a first date romance

Traditions of generations

From first kisses down to the last dance

2 thoughts on “By the slice”

  1. I tell Lissette all the time, it doesn’t feel right if an old Italian guy isn’t cutting my hair. Whenever I moved around the country, I was lost if I couldn’t find an Italian barber.
    Great poem. I can smell the smells, hear the songs on the old radio.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks bro

      Yeah I always swear the pizza doesn’t taste the same if I’m not in some let’s say cheap little Italian pizza parlor

      One that looks just like all the other ones in the world


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