Eating Pilaf with Edith Piaf

She says they’re fat with half

measures

–as if they’re choking on

their own bitter ends.

Like John M. Green having

a whole half to himself.

She knew some people had

whole

buildings to themselves.

They said it was good for

their ego. She had

to laugh. It seemed such

a secondary trait added

on at the end. As if it

might’ve mattered. As if

anybody cared.

But she loved their walk

and hearing them talk.

They had no doubt she’d

check them out

and find a missing sock

in one of their huts

or maybe the cloakroom.

Chicken Pans

You couldn’t just scrub them.

You had to soak them

half-full of hot

water and Ajax to soften up

the baked-on skin.

You had to stack half

a dozen like that on the back

kitchen floor near

the sink. And you had to

stack them out of the path of

kids fetching sauce.

And if the pagoda

got kicked it’s no big deal.

It’s only water.

The boss would yell.

You’d mop it up and rebuild

the stack so it could

soak another

half hour while you scoured

sauce pots and smoked.

He Had a Left Doll and a Right Doll

And he couldn’t tell them apart and he didn’t

know what to do about the hole his partner

punched when he told him not to tell him what

to do. He said it was an accident. He said there

was a fly buzzing up and down around it.

I said he ought to fix it. He said he didn’t have

putty but there was paper left from when he

fixed the dollhouse. He didn’t know if he

could make it stick. I didn’t have an answer.

He said his partner was on fire and every time

the phone rang he picked it up and said he

had a hole at home he had to wrap his head

around. I had to stop and ask myself if it

was worth all the cutting himself shaving.