making dinner in the late 60's

as a kid,
when your mother
was at work
until three
in the morning,
and your father was
with a woman
named doris
down at the four leaf
clover club,
you'd set the oven
to 375
and slide
your t.v. dinner
onto the rack,
using a pot
holder like
you saw your mother
do from time
to time.
your preference
was fried chicken
with buttered
vegetables,
a small scoop
of mashed potatoes
and sliced
apples. the legs
were as large as
a thumb, the breasts
not much bigger.
your brother preferred
the meat loaf
with gravy. brown
medallions of
aromatic something,
also with mashed
potatoes
and a large spoonful
of cut vegetables.
he got the sliced
apples too, which
was considered
dessert
according to
the cover of the box.
everything was hot.
almost too
hot. you had to wait
for a few minutes
as you set the t.v.
dinners on the coffee
table, in front
of the t.v. this gave
you time to butter
a few slices of
wonder bread and pour
a glass of milk,
then together, you
both slowly peeled back
the tight foil,
carefully letting
the trapped steam
out. you remember eating
everything in a matter
of minutes, as did
your brother, and then
setting the empty
tin trays on the floor
for the dog to lick,
banging it around
the room.