2022 Poem Eighteen

A Vegetarian’s Nightmare


The long line of tail lights barely illuminate the

Parking lot that’s still too wet from earlier’s rain.

The sky has no moon, no stars,

only clouds drunk on the threat of more puddles

to fill this under cared for and overused drive thru.

The line creeps slower and my stomach louder.

I swear it’s caving in on itself at twice the speed we’re moving.

Once I’m close enough to the speaker to hear

shouts of my order reach the relic of Y2K.

One large Baja Blast and six spicy potato tacos, please.

Excitement mounting for the inevitable nuptials

of cannabis and tacos.

Static with a hint of human voice announces:

We discontinued potatoes as part of discontinuing breakfast.

Would you like to order something else?

I’m now a deer in the headlights;

A building being demolished;

The first balloon a toddler loses to the sky.

No more potatoes? No more spicy potato tacos?

My will to consume Taco Bell is gone.

Uh… I’ll take four cheesy bean burritos then.

One thought on “2022 Poem Eighteen

  1. LOL I wrote a poem about ramen, rajah wrote about cake and here we are with you and taco bell. Also damn now I could really go for a spicy potato taco… my reviewing just won’t be complete without one.

    I love how you capture us so completely in this moment.

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