to eat those frozen peas
that are in the freezer.
an artic crust growing on
the single bag
of green peas. it stares
at me every time i open
the door to crack
ice out of a tray for
a gin and tonic.
i lift the bag, and tell it,
soon. please. don't
worry. i'll boil you in
hot water and put
butter on you. i'll
sprinkle you with salt
and pepper. it will
be all about you.
be patient. it's only been
three years or so.
i promise. soon.
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