Thanks, Ray, this is just what the doctor ordered.
No, you never see me have one with olives—your father likes
olives but I can’t stand them.
No, cocktail onions are just picked small. Turn that down, Dan.
Avocados, toothpicks. Coleus, root sprawl.
The diffident glints of a late-day sun, rays
splintered by leaves: they shake and, in their
shaking, streak the light. Transparent murk
of glasses at the glass.
Would you move just one inch over? There. The light was in my eye.
Susan Wheeler, “I Was Just Frosted” from meme. Copyright © 2012 by Susan Wheeler. Reprinted by permission of University of Iowa Press.
(University of Iowa Press, 2012)