I’m not hungry.  I appraise
the contents of the office fridge
anyway: a carton of soy coffee creamer,
three sack lunches, a four-pack
of flavored coconut water, someone’s
bottle of sriracha sauce & a sealed
plastic bag of organic cherries
I noticed three mornings ago.
I tear open the bag, grab
a fistful of cherries, then
reseal the bag & conceal it
behind the sack lunches like
an improvised explosive device.
I’m not hungry.  I eat
the cherries & spit each pit
into a paper towel I wad up
& cram into my shirt pocket.
Back at the computer,
I tongue bits of fruit
from between my teeth,
imagining what I’ll say
if someone asks who ate
the cherries.  I’m a bad liar
but not a bad person.
I didn’t enjoy eating them.
