After the Meal by Joseph R. Trombatore

after Edouard Vuillard's painting, 1900

Patiently
eggs are scrambled
bread is sliced

The jar of jam
begins to sweat like a prize fighter
in the 6th round

He's wanted for questioning
Spends too much time
with comic book characters

Queer people who send off money
to owls
as if they were relatives in a foreign jail
A too distant to travel to hospital

Crisp bacon begins the interrogation
napkin corroborates the curve of his lip
fingerprint
his alibi

A zebra's hideout
where every wall is camouflage
& street numbers are what's for dessert

They say we'll have a Wolf's Moon tonight

So full after a meal
your face will disappear

About the author:
Joseph R. Trombatore: a Pushcart nominee; recent poems have or will soon appear in Babel Fruit, Clean Sheets, JASAT (Journal of the American Studies Association of Texas), Origami Condom, Right Hand Pointing, Spoken War, Oak Bend Review, Dead Mule, Ken Again, Sugar Mule, & Offcourse Literary Journal.

Editor/Publisher of the online Literary Journal of the Arts: Radiant Turnstile