(for Joe Thompson and the Crisp Catering crew)
The man who delivers my dinner docks at my house
at 11:30 a.m., steps out of his land vessel with
two aluminum-foiled containers, wearing
a tired smile and his chef’s trousers enflamed
with images of carrots, tomatoes, squash
and the new sweatshirt his wife just had made for him:
SOCIAL DISTANCING EXPERT
He has been up long before any of his customers,
captaining his way in the dark to the kitchen
downtown from which he normally feeds
state workers doing their duty inside a great ship.
Now he feeds us five days a week if we want—we,
the isolated, the sheltered-in-place, the socially distanced—
chicken enchilada casserole one day,
shrimp skewers the next, every meal with a salad
and homemade dressing.
He and his crew sail around the city, county, outlying areas
in their sturdy landing craft—meals on wheels for four
in every set of bagged containers.
He thanks me, as do his children when they deliver,
for helping to keep him in business. Far from distant,
he brings more than we’ve paid for, always,
keeping us afloat on these unsteady seas.
crispcatering.com (Sacramento area)
Güd wrtr 