The Banker, the Poet & the Successful Novelist
There’s no good way to admit my envies, to say it’s hard
to be close to someone who has what I want—the money
for constant childcare, the advance big enough to stand still
for as long as it takes to get the words out. Tonight
what matters most is keeping the conversation going so
we pass the guacamole and the Jalapenos, stuffed
with peanut butter, which I am the first
to bite, not quite believing this recipe exists in a restaurant
this fancy, something so improvised, like whoever came up
with it was high. But the surprise is how the thick texture
of the peanut butter shuts down the spice before it flares
on my tongue and I nod to both the banker and the successful novelist
that I can handle it.
