Chicken Cordon-Bleu Road Kill
On the way to work I lost my lunch.
I was bicycling, and, as the result of some
user-error, I suspect, some packing mishap,
my lunch went flying out of my pannier
and into the middle of the road.
I had packed Chicken Cordon-Bleu,
a beautiful and abundant serving
from a previous evening meal,
inside a pyrex glass container.
No, problem, I thought, optimistically,
as I turned the bike around for a rescue mission.
It was then that an oncoming car
mowed over my lunch bag and that’s
when I heard the popping of airtight padded sack
and the crunching, glass shard-in-chicken
explosion of pyrex. I retrieved the
corpse of my lunch, set it safely (this time)
back into the pannier and rode it to work
for safe disposal. Thoughts of a lunchless
work day haunted the remaining leg of my ride,
but a simple email sent from work and a quick
response from my lovely and generous wife
brought remedy and a bonus feature to my rescue.
My wife and I, lunching together in the staff lounge
on subway sandwiches, a bag of chips, and root beer for two.
And this resultant poem.
2 thoughts on “#70: Chicken Cordon-Bleu Road Kill”
A sweet ending to a sad start of a day. That wife of yours is a keeper!