The Gallows

i refuse to live in a world where the answer to poutine is no

M Bar and Lounge

sleeping tidily in lacquered berths, char and silk, what fine orphanage

Kelly’s Diner

if only we all were soaked in cinnamon and butter and mercy

Frank’s Steak House

i am sixty-five; townies do not give a damn with each beefy chew

Russell House Tavern

thyme-scented chicken adrift; potato, butter in parts one to one