Lunch
The lunch time lecture series at work.
Some people bring lunch – not me!
Dark room, quiet moments, bad seats
Up front off to the side
Lit up by the projection machine
Food morsels flubbed from a fork
To the floor, coming to rest at the feet
Of the only other person who is looking
Down there.
Embarrassing slurps, the fibrous bits
Dangling from cheek and chin.
No, not me.
Besides
It’s a beautiful day.
Lunch outside before the lecture.
There is the answer.
Combine an errand
With a stop at the restaurant
That makes those
Yummy burritos.
There’s time – but only just
If I leave now
I can make it
But
Calm gives way to nervous energy.
Lunch is now a game of
Beat the clock.
One red light too many.
Caught behind a slow truck.
A brain-dead clerk at the drug store.
Cursed inefficiency!
The errand can wait.
I’ll shave one more day
With a dull razor blade.
I dash to the restaurant
One burrito – chicken
Pronto!
Out the door and to the car.
Time is of the essence.
The one motion
Door-slam-seatbelt-grab.
Saves a second.
Back on the road.
The same damn truck.
The same damn red light.
Stalking the parking lot
For a close-in spot.
The sun beating down
Through the glass windshield.
A favorite song on the radio
Always means good parking karma.
Finally –
I’m parked, gathering my things.
Windows going up electronically.
That moment of stifling air
Before the door is pushed open.
What is that smell?
Body odor?!
My God I stink.
No, wait.
It’s the burrito.
My lunch smells of stress.
It’s the burrito.
Double check. I’m fine.
It’s the stinking burrito.
And I have seven minutes
To eat it.
8:28:29 AM  Poems
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