Stopped at the light
at Stella Link and South Braeswood,12:20 p.m.
With the windows rolled down
because it’s 80 degrees in the dead of winter.
It comes wafting in,
slowly, imperceptibly---on lil’ cat’s feet!---at first.
Then storms in, enveloping, and the whole world reeks of
Popeye’s Fried Chicken.
Crispy fried death:
There was a day
we really ate it up.