dinner for one

I remember settling
back
into a chair, the black and white tv
on.
the volume up
because of the dogs
and brothers
and sisters fighting
throughout the house over shampoo,
or clothes.
I remember, setting my once
frozen
dinner upon the tv tray
and peeling back the foil
on my swanson
tv dinner, knife, fork,
a folded napkin,
a glass
of grape juice, too young
for red wine,
and eating slowly.
i enjoyed the tiny chicken
legs, the funny
tasting mashed potatoes
dripping with butter,
and apple sauce, so
hot it burned
my lips and tongue
upon tasting. my mother was at
work.
a waitress down the street,
my father was at sea.
somewhere in
the south pacific.
dinner though was served.