delivery man
Jessy Zapanta Chua
it just leaves a bad taste in her mouth
like she’s swirling the same spit round and round
little bits between teeth, itching her gums
dry heaving the same leftovers two days in a row
they all tell her she deserves something more
than those takeout cartons dripping with grease, or
the last piece of onion lying lonely at the very bottom
so beyond caramelized you can see right through it
still pounding into the keypad the same futile digits
squinting to see the coupon blurbs through the smears
looks like another night of the same oily dishes
but at least he’ll be there at the door knocking