Sara Adams
Two Poems
Picnic
I like to think that both parties bring a basket but
I know it isn’t true. I bring the basket
and you bring the appetite.I bring the blanket too, and utensils
—I know, it hardly seems fair!—but your
hunger stirs me (or something).I pour you the first drink
and place a sandwich before you.Rifling through your pockets
(you must have something to add!)
I find a knife
and cut everything open.Piknik.
I happy to thinking that all festivities take basket
but not correct. The basket is with me
and you are a hunger.I am taking blanket also and spoon and fork
—I am knowing, it looks like not just!—however a
hunger makes me changed (or something else).I spill for you the first beverages
and lay, first, hamburger.Gunning throughout the pants,
(it’s not possible that you don’t have any!)
I am finding the knife and
making everything open.
