by Rhiannon Thorne
On Saturday, I decided to sate my curiosity,
drive the half hour over to Scottsdale to gawk:
Amy's Baking Company, closed
after their distasteful run-in with Ramsey.
I was alternating between giggles and voyeuristic glee
at the closed sign hanging smugly in the window,
when up pulled a late model family van,
off-white and inconspicuous.
The driver's eyes twinkled, his cheeks were rosy,
as he leaned towards the passenger side and said:
“They deserved everything they get, and I'm Santa,”
he chuckled, “well, at Christmastime.”
Rhiannon Thorne’s work has appeared/is forthcoming in vox poetica, Your Daily Poem, Third Wednesday, and The Midwest Quarterly. She also co-edits the publication cahoodaloodaling with poet-in-arms Kate Hammerich.