Burrito: Poem
Do you like this poem?
Then check out my poetry book,Digging to China, released by Sweatshoppe Publications. This poem is in it, along with fifty others. Signed copies are available through Sweatshoppe Publications. It's also available on Barnes and Noble and Amazon.com.
Burrito
By
Justin W. Price
(first published in the Rusty Nail, Dec 2012)
For extra money, dad
would buy fallen trees
and chop them up into firewood,
to sell by the cord.
I was about fourteen
when he picked me up from school
dressed like a lumberjack.
Red flannel. Brown beanie. Ratty jeans.
I got into our van
And saw a wrapped up crunchy burrito
sitting on the dashboard.
I looked at him
and I looked at the burrito.
I looked at him.
I was very hungry.
I asked him where it was from.
He told me,
“who is it for?”
“For you,” he said
“I don’t like that restaurant.”
I was very hungry.
Dad ate the burrito
He said it was good.
I was still very hungry
As we chopped wood.
all rights reserved. Copyright Justin W price October 2011