fast food

it's an old joke,

one I've told my father a few times
over the years,

but at ninety one,
the memory bank is not what it once
was,

although he could be playing me
and
thinking that I've lost
a few marbles.

but the joke goes like this.

a woman asks her date if he likes
escargot

and he replies, no I prefer
fast food.

my father laughs, I laugh.
he's always been good for a laugh
as long

as you don't dig too deep into
his past.