Afternoon, In The Cafeteria

The knife slices.
All right. The
mad sudden
laughter fills
the kitchen,
is my own.
When the knife
is dirty I will
clean it,
carefully, blade
away; slide it
lovingly folded
in a blue sponge.
The sponge in
tatters from
cleaning the
grater, cheddar
cheese for my
spaghetti, turkey
from a can &
Best Yet tomato sauce.
All this because
I imagined a knife,
slicing, as I sit
sucking my teeth
after a sandwich
I didn't taste,
my head in a book,
looking up occasionally,
       the sea.

April 17, 1996
KCC, Brooklyn

note: written in notebook margin

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