Single Serving

Alone
I have
too much of everything.
The bread goes moldy
four slices into a loaf.
The milk spoils
with over half a pint left.
The wine turns sour
three quarters full
corked and cold
in the refrigerator door.

Alone
I never have
enough.
The dishes and garbage
take days to multiply
into numbers worth handling
until the kitchen is perfumed
with wasted pinto beans
and soggy lettuce.

The only thing that works
is consuming
tiny frozen dinners
that never spoil
that come in disposable trays
that retain barely a trace of the meal
that carry
no scent
and stack neatly
in a trash can
so that weeks could go by
and I would hardly notice
at all.