another stupid sign
erik e. humbert
Cracker Jacks and peanuts
we held
undiscovered in our little hand
left or right, one maybe two
of each was all that fit.
Don’t feed the animals.
And the salt from them mixed with ours
closed, waiting for dad to return from the ice cream line
or maybe a slush or three-colored ice this time.
We sat in the ivory-colored arches in St. Louis’ zoo,
cooling from the summer heat as the wind ran through these tunnels,
where the sun could not.
It was like air conditioning,
but could not keep tightened Cracker Jacks and peanuts from
nearly mixing.
And when mom let us run to the giraffes, to wait there instead
we revealed our packed popcorn, caramel and natural salt.
“Everything likes Cracker Jacks.”
Don’t feed the animals.
“why do they feed them straw?”
We never ate straw.
