and butter, of course, though
our great society has long figured out
how to do fake butter
so now I’m left with these questions—
what about goat? how do I mourn
the loss of ice cream and every breakfast casserole
should I go to the garden walk with wine and ____ ?
I suppose there might be crackers
and how could a Texas girl with even great imagination
(I’ve hardly that) fathom these long remaining years
without a single enchilada?
and certainly, why now?
when so much of the joy has already slipped
my hermit days march forward
with stiff arms and fists