Sunday, August 19, 2012


I’m waiting for a potato to boil. The microwave broke,

otherwise I’d nuke it and get on with the evening.

My wife is occupying the place with the vacuum,

so I find my smokes, pour my beer into a red cup

and go sit outside on the steps of our apartment building.

The cigarette is stale. I don’t really smoke that often.

The clouds are looking nice, kind of like the crazy

caravans from old movies with elephants and camels,

and the sun makes them float all purple and orange

and beautiful. A young couple is moving up the block

arguing or something. What happened? She’s very loud,

he looks calm. Right past my steps, in front of my eyes,

the boy grabs the girl and swings on her. She breaks

out of his grip and moves a few steps before he grabs her

again and hits harder. He stands there over her muttering 

something real low that I can’t understand. I don’t think they see me.

I don’t move until they move. I gulp down the beer. Try to figure out

how I will tell this to my wife. He was bigger than me, I don’t know

what their problem was, someone had to watch the potato. .

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