“Beans and Weenies”
A cheap and filling course for a family of six. Noodles and butter works just as well with
lots of pepper.
Poor Mufasa. Cooped up in the Chevy Astro
for two weeks, from hotel to hotel on our
transferring voyage across the country.
My stepfather gave him the freedom of
only returning to our new blue house for
food and shelter. When on New Year’s Eve
The beginning of the last of the 20th century,
he returned, gashed cheek and half face
missing fur, limp, begging for revival.
I begged my parents not to take me from him
leave him cold and alone in the tiled bathroom
yellowed from Mom’s cigarettes
so they could go drink until they didn’t make
sense even to my elementary ears.
When we returned, my stepfather wouldn’t
let me see him. Mom cried and said Daddy
will know what to do. None of us know
even now where he takes their fluffy carcasses.
I wrote Mufasa a letter on an orange matching
balloon with sharpie and let it go in the backyard.
I don’t remember if we had beans and weenies
or buttery noodles with pepper though I remember
I played with my Christmas present book of
optical illusions.
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