I feel like the chips
left at the bottom of the bag.
Too much to throw out
but too little to be
the first choice
next time you get hungry.

Waiting there in the pantry
until you get
a strong enough craving
to finish them off.

The longer you leave them
the more stale they get.
You reach down only to find
a shell of what they used to be.

-

imagine taking all the leftovers from
the neighborhood yard sales that had
taken place the year before

sort and box them into categories like
chipped saucers, stained children's
books, empty picture frames and
old uniform trousers

and you'll get a weekend sale lasting
about nine hours, including the time
taken to assemble these things, place
them carefully for display and

then later throwing them into a pile
on a flat bed trailer for disposal
the following weekend

still—

it is something the
neighbors like
to do...


s jones
Apr 2021


.

i'm sorry.
the leftover pizza
hidden in the back of the fridge,
just looked so tasty.

- the smell of pepperoni still lingers on my shirt.

Let me have this one moment before you go.
Let me hold on to it before it will slip through my fingers.
All I have are these moments we shared.

They stay fresh on my mind,
The way our flesh entwined.
For once, lost in idleness.
Soon, the moment will lose its sharpness.
As time fades the memory made.

Until all that remains is a fleeting feeling.
A bittersweet leftover of a lover's emotions
shared with another.

a sound, a simple movement of the hands
to make sure that every morsel lands.
trash can opens yet again
over and over.

everything useless goes
to a place no one knows.
leftovers leave our palms,
heading away with the rest.

left to get cold and rot
to which we think not.
the satisfaction in the thought
that it is gone and in other hands.

toys that no longer speak
left to die in the wreak.
no longer wanted by those
who once called them family.

leftovers and toys thrown away
are left to find their own way.

those who discard
are have this to regard.
they too become the trash,
forgotten in the waste,
the filth created by others.

we all lay to rot
this we know a lot.
on our own
by those that said
they loved us.

while rain falls like teardrops
from gloomy clouds that
suspend over a consumerist
country. impatient people will
trample over themselves to save
money on those bargain deals.
I will remain safe in my house,
nestled up in my warm cozy
blanket with my pajamas still on,
feasting on Thanksgiving leftovers
and read a book or write a poem
and have Charles Bronson entertain
me on the movie screen but most of
all I get the purest enjoyment
forgetting about how
vicious and gruesome
the holidays can be.
there’s no other way
to spend Black Friday
and there never was

Confined in close quarters
begging for quarantine
love tastes like carrion

Breathing mold spores
appeals more than
the kiss of a dying heart

For to taint joy
with the stink of decay
haunts honesty with living lies

A heavy heart
cannot power the light
that fuels a soul

Wondering how at nearly 25
I'm feelin left out?
This shelved life
got me in two minds
But I won't cry over split milk
It'll soon be dried
Up like the invites
I forgot to R.S.V.P
too busy tellin you
I'm just too busy
tryin to do me,
Right?*

Just do right by me
tonight
And bring me back in.
Going off ain't a sin,
Yeah I may have gone off
but not by much.
Still here on the side,
Tried to stay in touch
Reaching distance,
So reach out
And pick me up
it's worthwhile
you've not had enough
What's gone today,
come tomorrow will fill your cup.
Left overs still the best
Just need some heating up,
A fresh season,
a little warmth and love

I always thought making lasagna,
is like a religious experience for me.

And it is I mean,
it's always different depending,
on what I have,
for meat or no meat,
and vegetables,
and cheeses,

You can use cream cheese,
gruyere and cheddar believe it or not,
definitely need mozzarella though,
haha,

All those epic lasagnas I've made,
geez,
amazing what I've learned,
NO failures, ever,
and so many lessons in leftovers,
appreciating the depth of flavors
the gifts of the day,
and those yummy memories,
emmmm, boy.

When you can pause,
a -second-
to appreciate the
finer things in life,
like this here leftover lasagna.

It might be what makes you a good chef,
I don't know,

But it sure is better next day.

Cherie Nolan © 2016