there’s a guy in the restaurant booth just behind me and he’s trying

to score. he’s telling the girl sitting in the booth with him all about his

trouble at home, about how he’s going to finally confront his girlfriend

and just ask her what the hell is wrong, because she’s been acting

really weird lately, and he needs to know if maybe she’s pregnant

which he seriously doubts because they hardly ever sleep together

anymore, if she’s had a nervous breakdown and needs

professional help, or if she just doesn’t care about him


anymore. the girl in the restaurant booth just behind me hums

sympathetically, says this situation must really be hard for the guy

says he’s been a really good guy to stay with a woman

so obviously troubled for as long as he had. I hear her ask

the waitress for another drink, make it two, and I

am suddenly so happy that the man sitting in

the booth with me is my husband, because


it would be so easy, so horrible

to be a part of that couple sitting just behind me.


by Holly Day 



Holly Day is a housewife and mother of two living in Minneapolis, Minnesota who teaches needlepoint classes for the Minneapolis school district and writing classes at The Loft Literary Center. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Worcester Review, Broken Pencil, and Slipstream, and she is the recipient of the 2011 Sam Ragan Poetry Prize from Barton College. Her most recent published books are “Walking Twin Cities” and “Notenlesen für Dummies Das Pocketbuch.”


Listed at Duotrope
Listed with Poets & Writers
CLMP Member
List with Art Deadline
Follow us on MagCloud