Slow sandwich

A friend told me that I’m a bit plump,

That made me sad, that mean chump.

I’m not stocky, just globularly honed,

It’s not fat, my tummy’s big boned.

He said I also eat in a weird way,

Bread in the morning, cheese in the day,

Evening it’s bread again, dark and rich,

It’s a perfectly normal slow sandwich.

He thinks it’s odd that I don’t drink milk,

While he’s just gulping that white, cool silk.

I don’t like middlemen, so I just bow,

I eat some grass and then kiss a cow.

He laughed at me when I ate cherries,

Popped-open corn or juniper berries.

I show them the world by throwing them up,

Catch them in my tooth-lined cup.

Let him laugh and weirdify me,

In the meantime I’ll make me some tea.

Go to a volcano with the leaves and a cloud,

When I’m sipping, sigh out loud.


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