poetry by ds maolalaí

Hamburgers

biting in the kitchen   with our feet on cold   tiling—these are not    homemade hamburgers—   these are burgers   from take-out. peeling    foil wrapping and wet   greaseproof paper,   the skin of an orange,   but easy, more in it.

the flavor; grease melting    to bread and a flavorless    meat gray. and chips going soft   with the steam    of their wrapping    and hamburgers,   hot coke, also in the bag.

this evening, this glorious   evening. remembering    hamburgers past    and imagining hamburgers   future. and cheese   in the future   and melting—the very   next hamburger. we collapse,

happy people, eating   our hamburgers. we collapse,   happy birds    in oil-slick beef.

DS Maolalai has been nominated eight times for Best of the Net and five times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden” (Encircle Press, 2016) and “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” (Turas Press, 2019)