Spilt Milk

Free Verse

Photo by henry perks on Unsplash

She was eating lunch on the go
in her vehicle
as we do, so her milk and taco
tumbled
like twin sleepy gymnasts to
her leather (faux)
seats, in a puddle white as dirty snow.

“Darn,” she spat, because she doesn’t curse.
She sighed from hunger, grabbed her purse
and trotted back
to her crumbless cubicle.

At home the back door beckoned,
so she set her toe upon the stair
where a quiet can of bright marshmallow
paint
threw itself upon her
like a jaguar (albino)

Down it fell, gooey as
a milkshake made of goo —
sticky as a lesson learned:
slow down, girl, for goodness sake.