712 College St

(it’s that west end Toronto sidewalk, dessert-talk, smoke, handshake, squawk, gawk… institution)

“The Lord Himself dwells in these waffles!”
quoth the fat Jehovah’s witness
espresso slicker than gheri-curls
as Lil’ Richard graced the business

they say it got unhip up here
southwest - the Drake’s - where sizzle’s now
but ‘they’ don’t know Tronno from Tonawanda
and the Sitchy-Side still blazes

sure, the waitress ain’t really from Sicily
but she looks pretty good to me
brings us water, lots of bubbles
I wink, and tip accordingly

time to park, blab, hang out
with black Camilla, Swedish Inga
one scoop chocolate, one of vanilla
sidewalk days or nights out

don’t dress your best; or, dress to impress
chug the coffee, slurp that mess
spit out foam on your fresh pressed breast
sit and watch the stars gleam

it’s PortuGinos and paesanos
veggie gentry and ’bridge Sopranos
905ers and downtowners
--it’s so much more than ice cream.

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