So it goes

Photo by Erda Estremera on Unsplash

Once I styled myself a lettuce leaf

green team player, unnecessary accoutrement.

I stole the plastic lettuce leaf

from my daughter’s play kitchen,

hooked it to my keychain for a mantra

hoping someone would ask,

dreading they might.

One night, in a dim bar, after two too many drinks,

someone did.

I said it like this:

Lettuce is fine,

lettuce is good,

but no one misses its absence.

Nobody bangs on a table,

demands their dinner be sent back

for lack of lettuce.

He kindly said hearts of lettuce

were his favorite food of all.

So I fed myself to a little hamster,

nibbling daintily behind its bars,

peeping, squeaking,

wheeling thoughts

round and round

to stale conclusions

searching shredded paper

for words unsaid.

I took pity on that caged creature,

let it amble the yard,

sniffing creation’s glory

SWOOSH

An irritated eagle

denied its egret

seeking meat

caught it

— and lunched.