by Red Hawk
On the way to the picnic I stop to buy
an apple pie and the big bag of corn chips,
my favorites.
We get there and drink beer, grill burgers
and have a good time.
Just to show what a good guy I am,
I leave them the rest of the apple pie
and I wrap and fold the corn chips carefully
and place them next to our cooler so
they will come home with us. They are
my favorites.
The next day I go to the kitchen for corn chips but
they are nowhere to be found; I look
everywhere and then
I go in the laundry room where she is
doing the wash and I ask her, Where
are the corn chips?
I left them there to be nice,
she says, and that is how the fight starts.
It goes on and on, but it ends the way
they always end: she is in tears and when
I try to comfort her by saying I love her, she
says, You don’t love me, you don’t
know what love is. And I am thinking,
not out loud of courser, That’s a
goddamn lie, I love
those corn chips.
(from Wreckage by Red Hawk)