Saturday, October 26, 2013


               Why my husband will eat Caesar Salad tonight
(for Nancy)

Today I eat my lunch alone sitting on a plastic stool
with my Ipad.
I used to come with Liz for In and Outings
but just now
I see on Facebook she will heretofore eschew
the siren call of burgers
and choose instead to
chew tofu, sip soy milk and shuffle about in felt slippers.
A Manohla Blahnik girl, she shocked me.

High heels after all, really do make your legs look better.
Even vegetarian legs.

Chomping into my cheeseburger I scroll down further.
What is this?  Meatophile friends and relatives
by the score are crossing over to the vegetable patch.
And all these vegan ladies (and Nancy, my nephew and Martin)
smile smugly from their profile pages
with that special virtuous vegetarian kind of glow that comes from crunching and munching reddish things, like carrots.

As someone said, “What's up Doc?” Don't they hear the Vegetables scream as they're pulled from the ground?
They look thin, these earnest faces;  how galling. And they post about their oddball smoothies.
"Try sweet potatoes and broccoli with non-fat yogurt"  
"Love our carrots spun with parsley in chicken broth”

Gaggaroony honey. I love you but not that much.

Instead I reach for ketchup and think of Ogden Nash - that clever boy.
He warns of course to "shake the bottle lest nothing comes, and
then a lot’ll!"

Shifting on the stool, my vision wavers  - the faces vaporize like contrails
the images blur and go all squiggly.
Beef blindness? Heart attack?
But no….I see it's just Animal burger juice dripping on my iPad screen and
slowly spreading. I swipe at it and the irritated iPad flashes this, then that.   
The vegans vanish....every rosy, earnest, thin, vegetarian face
disappears under a great greasy smear.

I stand up, stifling first one meaty burp, then two, and click
the iPad off. 

Driving away, my appetite sated
the In and Out sign
gets smaller and smaller
in the rear view mirror.

And I decide we'll be having a Caesar Salad for dinner tonight.


My Otolaryngologist
(pronounced oh/toe/lair/in/goll/oh/jist)

My Otolaryngologist
was once my ENT
Why they gave the name this twist?
A mystery to me.


1 comment:

  1. Oh how I love a poem dedicated to me!! And I really love that poem. It's hilarious and brilliant. I'm going to have to forward it to several people I know who would appreciate it. It deserves a really wide audience. And it has my name in it.