A whole row
of parking

spaces saved for the

Wide fenders
real thick with American steel
barely fit

Don’t you dare park there
jam your junk in the trunk
into spaces meant
for micro-vehicles

All that cargo room
crammed with nothing much
loaded up with leisure and greed

Take your suburban self elsewhere
and keep your big-assed SUV off this
sliver of city asphalt

This is reserved
for small cars only
the slimmer models
leaner bodies
the ones who sip fuel
and slip through streets
so breezily

So get on down the road
find another lot
maybe at that First Baptist Church
where the big-bodied
corn-fed cars


©2015 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz





Yesterday I packed
a PBJ and pretzels and two kinds of fruit

pink watermelon and red cherries, ripe and ready

I slipped in a note
telling you to have a good day
penned in purple marker
embellished with hearts and curlicues
like you drew
used to draw
for me

only I didn’t
want to risk it
so I didn’t

Today I packed
a ham sandwich
without the ham,
cheese and pickles and lettuce
for my fickle vegetarian

and only one napkin
because you aren’t the messy one

and pretzels yes again
(you ate all the popcorn with your friends)

sliced apples with a squirt of lemon
so they’ll keep and not go bad
keep for hours
maybe days
maybe more
if you left them in your locker

keep for years
and never change,
never turn

I slipped in a small surprise –
a mini Snickers bar
from the woman at work
who keeps candy in her office
who has a teenager, too
who shows me photos
of hugs and smiles and picnics and trips

who asks of you
just before I ask about that project
for that client

Tomorrow I will pack
another PBJ
and strawberries
and pride
and expectations
and worry
and hope

and pretzels yes again

©2015 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz