1 Bud, 1 Pack of Cheez Doodles (1979)

Abigail Thomas

Author with her best friend, the literary agent Chuck Verrrill, who died January 2022 Photo by Jennifer Waddell

Word Count 157

In memory of Chuck

A jazz band today, they pass 

the hat too soon, pack up 

after one song, we don’t 

give them any money. I eat 

Chuck’s Cheez Doodles. 

At one-thirty, the sun slips behind 

The Plaza,  and we move north 

on the grass while an old man 

rummages in the garbage can 

eating food off wrappers 

and a girl goes to pieces 

on the steps by General 

Sherman. Sometimes we guess

at what went wrong with New York, 

but not today. The sky is 

a perfect blue, a popcorn day. 

Last week we walked across town 

And stood where somebody had calculated 

an enemy  bomb would fall 

and Chuck told me how far 

they figured a runner could get 

in twenty minutes headed

uptown. A blonde woman in magenta 

stockings sits down next to us, 

she reads “Principles of Accounting.” 

We walk slowly back to work, 

our love where it belongs, jingling 

in our pockets like loose change.

Abigail has four children, twelve grandchildren, one great grandchild, two dogs, and a high school education. Her books include Safekeeping; A Three Dog Life; and What Comes Next and How to Like It. She lives in Woodstock, NY.