the salad bar

talking to yourself
at the salad bar, but loud
enough to be heard
by the rotund
man beside you who
is delicately building
his salad, spooning
peas and celery
onto his lettuce leaves,
a sprinkle of
bacon bits and croutons,
you say to no one
in particular as you make
your own
green salad, you say,
well, I guess we can't
eat pizza everyday.
this gets nothing, not a stare,
not a laugh,
not a head nod.
but the next day, you see
the same man,
making the same salad,
and just barely, you hear
him say to the woman
beside him,
I guess we can't eat pizza
everyday. this makes
her laugh and laugh,
jumbling her
kale and beets out of
her plastic container
and onto the floor. you say
nothing, but
this makes you happy.