You climb out of bed, put on a tee-shirt, sweat pants and a ball cap
Walk to the corner store, buy coffee in a styrofoam cup
Lady at the counter tells you to zip up
Instinctively, you reach down and zip your pants
She barks you could have turned around to zip your pants
You reply she had already seen you unzipped
She calls you rude
Trying to keep peace, you turn to leave
She raises her voice – your Zappa shirt is ugly, too
You turn back around and ask if she ever washes her shirt
Halfway home, you realize sweat pants don’t have zippers, go back
Tell her you’re sorry that you argued over non-existent zippers
She says it’d been a bad day and she apologizes, too
You realize she is naked from the waist up and ask about her shirt
She tears up, says it was filthy so she took it off to make you happy
You take off Zappa, tell her to put him on
She turns it inside out, puts Zappa next to her skin
You laugh and say that will make Zappa smile
Hand her a napkin from the sandwich display to wipe her eyes
She says quietly she gets off at 8
Back in bed, you wake from your dream, get up
And look for Zappa in the dirty laundry on the floor
10-11-20
My husband's poetry 
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