Portions

Stan didn’t wait for the Amen.

He had the blue-rimmed container

ready in his lap,

clicking the tabs back

while the pastor was still

thanking the dirt for the pigs.

He targeted the honey-glazed center,

stacking the pink slabs

like he was building a wall

against a coming famine.

The snap of that lid

sounded like a small bone breaking

in the quiet of the hall.