the graduate

dad, he says.
you have no food.
how can you have
absolutely no food.
you have seven bottles
of different salad
dressings and a
bottle of vodka,
a cut lime and
yet no real food.
he's standing at
the refrigerator
door in his cap
and gown, a freshly
printed degree
rolled in his hand.
the ink still wet.
he has no job,
no money, no idea
yet as to what
tomorrow will bring,
and yet he's hungry.
you have nothing
to eat here dad.
i'm going to mom's
house. she's having
pot roast tonight
and potatoes. and
she made a boston
cream pie for
dessert. hold on
i tell him, let me
get my coat. i'm
going with you.