My favorite flavor of Campbells soup
is Chicken and Stars,
those hundreds of tiny stars
in a microwave bowl, on a wooden tray
above the blue carpet, on a Saturday night.
Jeremy tries to annoy with his slurp-slurping
of the starry spoon, but I
just laugh with a grilled cheese chuckle.
Its either the MSG, the flickering TV,
or that brotherly bond tonight renewed
against a common babysitter.
She sits on a stool in the kitchen.
into the telephone with an excited voice
to someone old, probably a boyfriend.
Some of the thin broth
splashes onto the carpet.
I let Jeremy change the channels;
he says I can finish the rest
of his soup.