The ham is dry and the mustard is too bright

The ham is dry and the mustard is too bright.

I read the name in the blotter, third column down.

Five years back I was crying on my knees at night

asking the ceiling to bring that man back to town.

I wanted a ring and a house and his heavy name.

Now he’s in for felony theft, caught at a gate.

The wax paper crinkles. Everything looks the same,

except I'm eating alone and it's getting late.