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.

Image credit:Dicky Jiang

I've lived in Tucson since 1953 and retired in 2008 from teaching writing at Pima Community College.

My poems have appeared in journals like Carolina Quarterly, Barrow Street, RATTLE, and New Poets of the American West. 

I'm a passionate supporter of Sky Island Alliance, a regionally-based environmental organization.

Birkenstock Blues, my eleventh poetry collection, was published in 2019 by Presa Press (Rockford, MI).