ADYNATON

i. The room was silent,

but then,

the crinkle

of a bag of potato chips.

 

ii. One at a time

delicately, careful not

to get salt everywhere,

crunch, crunch, crunch.

 

iii. But he got hungrier,

two chips at a time

no, three.

 

iv. His fingers are now greasy,

as he flips pages of a book,

marking each page

with an oily fingerprint

 

v. At this point, he stops caring.

Crumbs litter his shirt,

and lips,

and the ground.

 

vi. A finger goes in his mouth

then another, and another.

tasting salt, and oil, and potatoes.

 

vii. His friend sits across the room,

but share?

Ha, never.

 

viii. She stares,

disgusted.

But who can eat a bag of chips silently?

 

ix. The crunch of chips ring in his ears,

now conscious of his volume.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

 

x. Crunch, crunch,

crunch, crunch, crunch,

crunch “can I have some?” crunch.

 

xi. If he hands a chip with his wet fingers,

it’s gross.

If he hands the bag,

she’ll take too much.

If he ignores her,

he’s rude.

 

xii. She takes her time,

hand rummaging through the bag.

She takes a handful of chips.

 

xiii. He shouldn’t have shared.