In the refrigerator
behind the milk
behind the bran muffin
I never ate
lies last week’s leftovers.
Vaguely, I remember
some type of potted roast
or was it tuna salad?
Either way,
there it lies
in a battered pot
handle broken
lid half on —
I wonder if it’s still edible?
Better go hungry
one more night.
Better to leave it.
Crap behind Crap.
I’m tired of being
everybody’s leftovers.
© Sabrina Santa Clara, 1988