kansas city barbeque

men toss split logs in the pit,

fire and smoke and sparks,

forks, slicers, and knives

 

at the barbeque joint,

the ancient desire

for fire in the night

 

the man at the register

pickles, slaw,

and piece of a pie

 

fries, ham and beef sandwiches

sausages, short ends, long ends, chicken—

quarter and half

 

customers in worn boots, neckties,

exurb voyeurs, families,

tourists, and executives

 

meat piled high,

drowned in sauce,

swallowed in minutes

 

we stretch bellies taut

eat until our eyes roll back—

surely this is prosperity