Greasy Nicks Poem by Paul Warren

I want a real hamburger- you know the real deal
Not the mass produced rubbish with a taste that's real
I want to go to an old style fish and chippery
And watch a Greek bloke standing cooking it for me

I can hear the home made burger sizzling away
With onions cooking as the smell stays
And you would bite into it holding the white paper bag
As the juices would flow down your chin making you so glad

Maybe there's still a Greasy Nicks somewhere around
That still nurtures the flavours you remember so profound
And we can stand with the Friday night crowd
Whilst Nick creates perfection standing so proud.

© Paul Warren Poetry