While busy
Making Friday
Lunch,
Mrs. Bunche
Carelessly
Spilled
The shaker
Of salt,
And came
To a halt.
Before she
Could think,
The entire
Amount
Went into
The sink.
She turned
Away
From the
Pot of
Soup.
Valiantly
Trying to
Regroup,
And damn
If it
Didn't
Suddenly
Seem
Her whole
Blasted
Existence
Had been
Just a
Dream,
A waste
Of time
And a
Foolish
Scheme.
She had
Made
An endless
Meal of
Her
Life,
As somebody’s
Daughter
And somebody’s
Wife.
She put
On
Her hat,
And
Walked
Out
The door,
And no one
Saw
Mrs. Bunche
Anymore.
Mr. Bunche
Was not
Too sad,
Things
Did not
Look
Too bad,
But now
Mr. Bunche
Had to
Make
His own
Lunch.
The soup
Was flat
When
Down
He sat,
But it
Wasn't
His fault
If he
Had no
Salt.