rda 

 
 
at tresidder union  
i stood in line behind  
two young women, their  
clothes more holes than 
fabric, one pair of legs 
graced by flowered stockings
and one hat sporting fabric 
sunflower squares.  impatient,
(five of us) behind their salted
pretzels, clearly canadian, and 
plastic-wrapped cheesecake that 
took two minutes to order, we
tapped in a rush rush.  strangers, in 
such lively detail.  i could only
imagine what you were doing, whether 
sitting in a purple-upholstered lecture 
hall, studying in your open-window sunset 
bedroom (i've never seen you study
come to think of it), wandering with an unfamiliar 
friend across white plaza, or trapped in
an aluminum warehouse recording & editing 
tapes for your a capella choir, mixed company.
at last, dollars slipped across the glass counter, 
and the girls left leisurely.  i ordered a 
vanilla frozen yogurt, then sat at a 2-seat 
booth.  a dessert.  last time i walked to your
house in daylight hours, i couldn't find
the entrance.  though you said, "i want to
spend more time with you" (we haven't), the
nutrasweetness of our carefully-cultured friendship 
has substituted for 3 full meals a day.
you can starve without 100% of the rda.



--jennifer crystal chien