There was this one deli in my hometown that I remember very fondly. They always seemed to have the best ingredients for anything...
This poem is for the hard-working individuals that spent their waking hours there...

Vinni's Delicatessen

Take one left down East Street,
cross the walkway,
move your feet,
and you come down to memory lane,
a place I will never see again.

I miss the smiles and laughs for all,
I miss the rolls and the delicious meats,
I miss Vinni, who is now bald,
I miss the air freshener that smelled like the beach.

I remember the bread-slicing machine in the back,
with it's dull yet steely blades,
it tried to slice all day and night,
but the beast of the bread refused to fade.

Vinni had to break the bread with his hands,
but it had the taste of all the lands,
a pinch of Sicily, a taste of Rome,
a bit of, most importantly, home.

And you've got the best,
in your mouth,
it's primed and ready to eat,
"Welcome to my Delicatessen," he'd say,
"please have a seat."

Poetry by Lucas
Read 735 times
Written on 2006-05-10 at 02:02

Tags Home  Food 

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Cooooool. I'm hungry. I want bread or something that Vinni made. Vinni is the coolest name in the world.
Anyway, it's a really good descriptive write and you really draw the reader into it. Sweet job.