She stood on the edge of her stall

With her come-hither smile,.

Thrusting her salami-laden toothpick

Into my mouth.

Yummy, she said.

She sold salami

While her husband

Was writing

Screenplays

Back in the R.V.

Why can't I find a woman like that?

I bought the salami.

Now three months later,

There's this package of stale salami

In my fridge.

I don't like salami.

I should throw it away,

But every time I pick it up,

Mold and all,

I reminisce that moment

When the salami lady of quartzite

Revealed her soul

On the end of a toothpick.

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