a tuna christmas

you buy your wife
a beaded seat for her
car. she's a cab
driver and sits all
day behind the wheel.
thank you, she says.
and comes over to
the couch to hug
you around the neck.
and here's your gift.
you unwrap the large
box with a bow.
it's a black leather
briefcase. someone
left in the back
of my cab, she says.
there's no name
on it. no one came
to claim it in over
two weeks. you have
to pry it open
though, it's locked.
you take a butterknife
and break it open.
it's full of magazines
a newspaper. and a stale
lunch in a brown bag.
tuna fish on rye,
with a dill pickle.
a small bag of chips
is in there too.
thank you, you tell
her. i have everything
i'll ever need now.
merry christmas.