Don’t think of it
as me
eating your sandwich.
Think of it as
your sandwich
hiding inside me
for a day or two.
"…something like the supervisor of an entire team of political agents…"
Don’t think of it
as me
eating your sandwich.
Think of it as
your sandwich
hiding inside me
for a day or two.
I think I remember this one from a while back, yeah? It’s a good one. I like that your poetry is really *about* things. Like sandwiches.
it’s true — from like back in the summer of ’02, I think. it was in that first lil booklet I made way back when.
also: happy bluebeard’s birthday!
and i remember being somewhat distressed by this one–seeing it from the sandwich-eye view: poor paranoid little sandwich, narrowly escaping from one maw to the “safety” of your tummy bunker…
Sounds like a horror movie: “No ! Don’t go in there !! Oh, damn, they always do that…”
a day or TWO??!!! dude, what kind of concrete-like, can’t break down the plastics, sandwich are you eating? digestion should take hours, tops. did the sandwich take a wrong turn and end up in your ear? let’s map it together:
mouth->pharynx->esophagus->sphincter->
stomach->small intestine->large intestine->
colon->rectum->anus
it’s a 10-step, fun-filled program for the sandwich that has an ending much like most W-administration policies.
“Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested: that is, some books are to be read only in parts, others to be read, but not curiously, and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.”
—Sir Francis Bacon