Desert Noon

Burger and fries At a roadside stand Constant buzzing of the flies Under an angry yellow sun The mustard dripped down from the hamburger Onto her brand new dress She stared down at it When she looked up, There was a tear in her eye The single glistening salt tear Of her frustration, her anger Harold, she said He didn't hear her, continued to eat Harold, she said again louder, Choking back a plaintive sob, I didn't think it would be like this He looked up, uncomprehending Like what, he mumbled Like this, she cried, our honeymoon, At a goddamned hamburger stand He blinked and swallowed I want a divorce, she screamed This is a nightmare His mind plodded through grease He found an answer But we haven't had sex yet, he said Oh, she said quietly She thought about that for a second And then started eating her burger again