Poem: Gil’s Restaurant

Walking in Friday evening 6pm,
The patio seating is packed,
The inside seating is packed,
Beer and conversations are flowing.

It’s a tap beer kind of place.
I’m not a tap beer kind of guy — but I don’t give up.
It’s a pulled pork kind of place.
I’m not a pulled pork kind of guy — but I don’t give up.
They have nachos — small and large,
and I am a nachos kind of guy.

I am sitting here eating
the messiest, tastiest, most-fun-to-eat nachos
I have ever had.

Even the small basket
is overflowing with a messy, tasty,
Yes — even nutritious — combination
of chips smothered with
cheese and beans and tomatoes and guacamole
and cabbage and jalapeños and secret sauce;

And the line of people all (well, almost all)
half my age
ordering their Friday evening beer on tap
never ceases
as I eat and read and write this poem.

(written May 16, 2016 while eating at Gil’s)

Author: Peter Finkle

My name is Peter Finkle. I moved to Ashland in 1991. My email is walkashland-at-ashlandhome.net. I am a Husband, Father, Poet, Writer and Herbal Health Researcher.

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