I choppeda ton of tomatoesthat summer,skinned a helluva lotof potatoes, too.The time I slicedmy shin openon that jalapeno can(man, that stung)you were so gallantwith your plastic wrap--a regular James Bond.We coulda been flattenedtogetherdriving aroundin that level F4 tornado,but we weren’t.We coulda run offtogether that summer--but we didn’t.
#14 of 30 Poems In November to benefit Center for New Americans.