1969, mamma sent me out to that tiny white diner
on Independence Ave
that looked like a baby shoe box
to buy a dozen mini cheeseburgers.
She snapped insults when I came back
without change or receipt.
In a fit,
she threw the bag of cold meat biscuits into the trash bin.
Then, ordered me, with finger pointing, to return.
The waitress gave me two pennies
and said never to come back.
I became invisible upon my arrival home.
I searched the trash and found only wrappers.
No rubber biscuits for my dinner.
I collapsed onto my cot and forgot the day.
on Independence Ave
that looked like a baby shoe box
to buy a dozen mini cheeseburgers.
She snapped insults when I came back
without change or receipt.
In a fit,
she threw the bag of cold meat biscuits into the trash bin.
Then, ordered me, with finger pointing, to return.
The waitress gave me two pennies
and said never to come back.
I became invisible upon my arrival home.
I searched the trash and found only wrappers.
No rubber biscuits for my dinner.
I collapsed onto my cot and forgot the day.
No comments:
Post a Comment