I Have A Dream

It's a place they say no longer exists,
I traveled and looked along Route 66.
Some try to emulate restaurants of old
Ed Debevics Chicago is one, so I'm told.

Authentic here's the imperative word
Please tell me I'll find one, don't say I'm absurd.
Checkerboard floor and "Eat Here" rusty sign
Red vinyl booths, a jukebox and no fancy wine.

Meat loaf, cheeseburgers, and crinkle cut fries
The 'must haves' continue with sweet Apple Pies.
Chrome swivel stools and fountain poured Coke
Guest check for less than ten bucks, not a joke.

Blender milk shakes made in front of your face
Starbursts and boomerangs shape Formica space.
Sassy wait staff, snaps their gum, knows your name
Bowling alley adjoined; throw some darts, play a game.

Housewives sans aprons with kids on their laps
Blue Ribbon farmers in John Deere baseball caps.
Impromptu dancing of the jitterbug
Steaming hot coffee in a big white fat mug.

Give me the feeling of riding a train
Film Bounty commercials and souvenirs' rain.
Where angled signs flash their neon galore
Americana is what I long for.

I've not left hungry, my search goes on still
Cracker Barrels appear at each exit and hill.
Comfort food, nostalgia, I want by my side
This place, I fear...only in my mind does abide.