Romance is Dead

Pop tart on pavement,

smashed purple with sprinkles

“Romance is dead” you said.

I nodded and winked.

A random encounter,

a tossed off cheap pastry,

eyes locked in parking lot

“I don’t mean to be hasty”

You said, but: “Lunch?”

I threw back my head

“Why not?” After all, we agree

that romance is dead.

Louisiana sticky chicken

red gingham table, side of rice.

You looked and me and said

“I think I’d like to see you twice.”

No mention of my summer dress,

no compliments upon my hair,

we discussed smashed pop tarts and such

and love was in the air...

unmentioned of course, as it should be;

you devilishly bonny prince of a man

indifferent to my high dollar perfume

you’re attracted to my business plan.

So we packed up to the bayou

and many blissful years later

we sell Cajun food from our snack shack

with a view of the local gators.

You don’t bring me flowers

and I don’t pet your hair

and everyone who knows us

knows we’re the happiest couple anywhere.

Ya’ll can keep your flowery speeches

and gazing into each others eyes

we found love over a smashed pop tart

and it thrives in craw fish pies.