cassket

An ode to a lonely lunch. | October 6, 2012

It sits, abandoned under a computer desk

Purpose filled, empty wrappers spill from it as if it was trying to push itself away

Oh lonely lunch, there’s nothing to fear.  Someone is better for your loss.

Furthest away is a juice box, the blue of a man-made concoction.  Its twin, equally crumpled, is purple.  Straws have spilled out, laying in pools of dripped that are surely sticky.

Then a few wrappers.  Wrappers from crackers, cheeze spread likely stiff from the air

Poking out of the bag is an apple core — someone was hungry.  It’s eaten closely, a seed is visible.  What little skin I can see around the brown stem is bright green.

Finally, some empty ziploc bags.  They are a mystery to me, save for the crumbs trapped in one.

My best guess is a sandwich, but who knows?  Breadsticks from some long-ago pizza run?  Bread baked fresh?

The whole mess — the literal mess, comes only to my ankle.  The tired, plastic bag from 7-11 bag has folded in on itself in defeat.

Oh lonely lunch, your purpose is filled but your place is wrong.  I send a thought to the person before me.

Throw away your trash, dammit.

Advertisements

Leave a Comment »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: