the washer and the dryer.
in my mind,
i hear one say, “un-uh”
and the other one answer, “oh yeah,”
while sitting in a tiny kitchen,
in a familiar folding metal chair
waiting for the chili
that i prepared all day yesterday
to reheat, as no one including me ate it.
i am pondering the cornbread
reclining peacefully and untouched
in a simple, red dish made of crockery.
the cheddar is grated and in a bowl.
the sour cream and chopped onion
just waiting, like me.