214 West Mulberry Street

After 40 years

Morris Martick

88 years old

Closed Marticks

For final

By dying.

He told me he was retiring

Back in the Nineties.

He was naked

Except for his boxers

And apron

Sitting in the chair 

Next to me

With it’s ripped plastic seat cover

Like it was normal 

For the owner

The head chef

To do so

In a room full of people

Dining.

In Morris’s case

It was.

The lights shimmered yellow-gold off 

Of the peeling aluminum 

Rattlesnake wallpaper

Creating a magic glow.

I think he was 67 back then.

I clinked jelly jar glasses

Full of red wine 

With him.

“Cheers!”

We winked at each other

Smiling through

Broken teeth.

He was famous for his

Pate De Campagne

Handwritten menus

And bread pudding.

What he may or may not have known

Was that he was also famous for cooking

French food

Naked in the kitchen

Except for the apron.

Hitting unrelentlessly on all of the female staff

To the point of even exposing himself.

He was famous for his handpainted windows

And blue chevron doors

Which you had to ring the doorbell

To get in.

It was once a speakeasy.

Or that he kept the catch of the day

Upstairs in his apartment

On ice

In his filthy bathtub.

That he was more than happy

To come out of the kitchen

And check on you

To find out 

How you were enjoying 

Your food

In a tattered t-shirt

Zipper down

Dick falling out

Like only a crazy 

French man could.

He was uncircumcised.

And that truly

Was part of his charm.