She found my nickname
on a six-pack
of cheddar crackers:
In jest, she gave me grief
for my diet, said I eat too much
Great Value Cheerios and too many
store bought bagels – is it too much fiber
she kidded me about or that I ate ghetto
As a gesture, as a joke, as a token
of care she would bring me old jam jars
filled with genuine yellow box Cheerios
so that I could live it up once in a while.
In time, when she asked what I ate
for breakfast or lunch or dinner
she just answered herself – hell, you only eat
three things: cereal, bread, and oatmeal,
oh, and noodles, but only if they’re
These wisecracks, were always just
needles that didn’t draw any blood
but still found the biggest veins
and made way to my heart.
The day, the last one we kissed
together, on her way out, as part
of her farewell to us as we were
she said – I love you, whole grain.
I still have one of the jam jars,
but it’s empty now, no more Cheerios.
Leonard Owens III is a humble student at Daytona State College who likes sleep, but gets very little, so he stays up and writes instead. Poems of his can be found at Daily Love, Dead Flowers: A Poetry Rag, and Downer Magazine, and short stories of his can be read at Fiction365, Every Day Fiction, Foliate Oak, and Free Flash Fiction. Hopefully, more of his stuff will be accepted by various journals of awesomeness soon. If not, he’ll just keep writing anyway.