| Thunder Sandwich #17
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 dweeb by jeff filipski |
| Out on a slice of white I stick it. Go half crosseyed smothering the sucker in French's, plopping on Heinz. The pickle incites slobber. The onion jerks tears. Pepper activates the snot faucet. Snuffling, drooling, vision blurred, dump on almost enough Morton's to gag the mess into the sink. Add a slab of jack, iceberg leaf, one beefsteak wheel. Since the fridge offers nothing further, finally clap on a top slice. How keep it together? Ah, yes - the toothpick! A hard round baby with a yellow tassel. Business end sharp as Henry "T" Ford at the drawing board. On the kitchen floor I kneel. Tuck against the cuttingboard my chin. Wiggle sandwich flush with surface. Raise the pick. Shut the eyes. Slam down the Diamond like a nail destined for a palm of Christ. Nnth! Nnth! Can't hold it out much longer. Hey, Mom - you hungry? Somebody doesn't eat it, I'll just give it to the dog! |
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| ISSN: 1534-4037 |
Edited by Jim Chandler & Haze McElhenny
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