Creep

it was an August kind of September afternoon
smooth and sunny

making dinner time

the oak boards of
the living room floor
simmering in the sun
courted other smells
of fallen apples
overripe under a neighbor's tree
and chicken cooking over charcoal

i was hungry

her warm tangle of hair
yellowed-up the room
asleep on the floor, in sunshine
in her green dress
as an ear of sweet corn sleeping
unashamed on plywood
road-side, for sale

i considered her

and she rolled awake
onto an elbow
asked me what i was doing
watching her like some creep

three for a dollar?, i said
tossed a quarter and a dime
into the ashtray

i went to get butter

she stood up to stretch
"you're a creep, you know that?
what's for dinner?"