An Evening on the Town
Once we arrived at Restaurante El Salvador, she
Explained I was in charge of entertainment for
The next twenty-one years. Deciding on the spot
Not to fall for the slipping on plantains gag,
I juggled the pupusas, waiting for her tongue to slide
The layers and find the joy melting inside, and then
She lapped the oblivion that comes from sweet humor,
Tasting like horchata and leaking from my jokes.
I dropped desayuno to smooth her palate, focus on
Where show biz wants to go: the beans of forgiveness,
The eggs of tomorrow, and the creaminess of dreams.
The laughter died down, and we were full and drowsy.
Like all good comedy, we were off to bed, fused as a tree
To the earth. In that darkness, we both were holding fast.