Lazily the
conversation
Meanders around the
point
As you search
For a reason to cook
Where is the potato
salad
And the holiday
leftovers
That won’t heat up the
house
That might prolong the
reclining moment?
If it was just us we’d
wait
Let the humid moments
pass
But these darn kids
Are not as patient
Complaining of a
hunger
More based in boredom
Than actual starvation
The message you send
is desperate
“Why don’t we have any good food in
this house?”
I know that good
really means easy
“Maria gave us a box of corn
We
have lots of corn!”
“Well, cook some up -
the kids love it
Maybe ruin it with
butter and salt, like in the old days
Or worse, with margarine
Like we were raised in the 70s!”
You let me know they
had corn for breakfast
Such silly little
reprobates
“I am eating boiled peanut” you
relate
“I am ashamed” is your
confession
I laugh in text
“Hahaha, you are Southern now!
Sorry!”
But it isn’t a joke
There is watermelon in
the fridge
Fried chicken for
dinner
A farm outside our
door
And overalls in my
closet
And you just told me
Maria’s trailer is “nice”
And I wonder when it
happened
But summer is too hot
For anything so deep
And I’m jealous of
corn for breakfast
And I was hoping
To snack on those boiled peanuts
Cool and moist
Waiting in the refrigerator door
