Just describe the summer

you took the motorcycle and half a bag

of Spanish down to Comanchos

in the desert and the waitress

with the dark eyes

said créeme

trust me

so you did

and from the steaming kitchen

came laughter and music

and after a minute

or a year

the beautiful poblano relleno

and on top

like a verdant archipelago

the avocado

the only thing anchoring you

to your seat and the summer night

and the planet, even, if you can believe it?

When he nods and smiles and says

his wife bought one once on a whim

and stuck it in the fridge for a week

only to discover that when she cut

through the coarse skin it had gone

to mush so she never bought another

and now she’s gone so he does all

the shopping and he’s trying to try

new things but it’s just so damn hard

when he already knows what he likes,

if you know what he’s saying?

Drop an avocado in your cart

and let him walk away.

Today you can both be right.

Garrett Stack’s first book is Yeoman’s Work (Bottom Dog Press, 2020). His poems were most recently published in The Ilanot Review, Cider Press Review, and bee house. He teaches at Ferris State University in Big Rapids, Michigan.