peas
i yelled to her
in my best dramatic voice,
learned
from my mother's shakespearean
life
with my father.
tragically comic.
take your damn frozen vegetables
and be gone,
wench.
not sure if i used the word
wench, but
looking back on it, i wished
i had.
her dark eyes grew darker
as she
stuffed the bags of carrots
and kale into
her large purse strung around
her vein bulging
neck.
get thee to a nunnery, i yelled out,
pointing at the door,
not knowing
what it meant, but
having it roll off my lips
like butter.
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