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a trio of imperfectly

peeled hard-boiled eggs

huddle in a potter’s bowl

where they will be fork-mashed and -hacked

to a unified mush to which will be added

store-brand mayonnaise in three dollops

and Plochman’s mustard in an air-forced squirt.

this condimented mush will lie

on a store-brand potato bread hot dog bun

and on this bed of food

thin-sliced roma tomato will be arrayed.

1% butterfat milk will be the beverage.

coffee with splenda and french vanilla dry creamer

will follow

as with a sauntering walk

to aid digestion.

you get taken out of the thusfar when you die

and are brought back when you are reborn.

flour and water are mixed and flattened

and briefly brought to flame and tortilla life

reborn how?

your birthday comes and a You comes to memory.

and the tortilla encases spiced meat and green chilies

and a mix of cheeses

a poem you wrote long ago is reread

and the reader hears your voice, thinks your thoughts.

and is plated with salsa and sour cream

and a cooling mix of shredlettuce and tomato dice

you will be dreamt. a cousin will mention you,

sounding like you. there are photo-traces of you.

and the diner carefully puts salsa on every bite,

sour cream on some, and when the burrito is gone

it becomes an indivisible part

of the diner’s thusfar.

2016-06-27 11.31.38

YUM factor

You have eaten ambrosia, naif
You have tasted buffets at Vee Quiva

U have been in the dark in a new story arc
U five-star near & far till u like to infarct

Mastication verbatim–will U take ye bait? O
Mayhap a tomato au gratin won’t scar

I work for a restaurant. We provide made-from-scratch meals as part of a dining experience intended to relieve, fortify, and empower the bedraggled traveler. We charge airport prices. Overwhelmingly our diners think it’s well worth it, judging from the repeat business (“Laura on Thursday,” for instance) and wonderful comments our diners make on their way from our place to their flights.

Today I ate a breakfast brioche prepared by Bertha’s Cafe. The grill marks on the bread somehow made the sandwich taste that much more exquisite. Cooking is an art, not a science.