3 poems about a food tray, a cigarette and cats
a food tray in the middle of a crowded food court
taking up space at a dirty table
no one wants to sit at
because the leftover panda express
smells really strongly, really badly—
maybe the tray has been there for over a week
and everyone refuses to clean it up—
the janitors, the kitchen staff, the mall customers—
each passing day the stench increases exponentially.
a family of four with nowhere to sit
looks at the dirty table
with the leftover Chinese food,
debating silently, in their heads,
weighing their options.
a teenage boy
throws his half smoked cigarette
out of the passenger side window
from his friend’s pickup truck.
i am a 12-year-old girl
with my 13-year old best friend.
i pick up the half smoked cigarette,
i take a drag and pose at my best friend,
hand on hip
hip jutting out
like it’s broken.
“check me out, babe.”
i feel cool.
i thought about what my life
would be like if you never taught me how to knit.
i would be one half the cat lady i am now.
my cats would be naked.
sarah jean alexander is 24, lives in baltimore, and works at a bar. she is allergic to fruit and nuts. she blogs at http://sjwritten.wordpress.com.