Lunch Business

by Tim Young

It's lunch in the car time at 5:30 pm
The car sits next to the mattress delivery truck
in hope of receiving a blanket of shade
The clouds cover high and wide
across a busy sky
The top of the water bottle
unscrewed and sipped from
in gulps large and wave like

A ham and cheese sandwich reveals itself
from under cover of such proud aluminum foil while
Mustard peeks through yellow cheese slices
Ham standing firm except on its wobbly edges

iPhone speaks friendly with bottle of water
and Starbucks coffee cup
in familiar arm rest couch
discussing the angry customer
who referred to the deli man
as a jerk
but whom will surely pay
for indiscretions as sure as
there is bad bologna

Meanwhile a chat on the phone
lists the days activities with loved one not including
an angry customer
but describing friends
who accidentally drop by
for turkey sliced thin

Now shoes come off untied cozy with the
break and accelerator pedals
resting without souls
and any chance of salvation

Finally to the cellophane and the
pumpkin spice biscotti clinging
for dear life before a quick swim 
in the cream infested coffee
brings a silent peaceful disintegration

Electric windows roll back to closed position
The aluminum now crumbled as any plain paper
Remaining coffee awaits slow walk return
to cooler climes of supermarket
while visions of dishes to be scrubbed
now replace windshield and wide expanse

Remote moves its click to locked doors
And sandwich biscotti crumbs
tumble from black apron to baked
yellow lined parking lot