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poem
November 2009 
Looking For A Good Eucharist
Posted on Feb 1st, 2008
by 
Ron
Ron
At first it smelled like salami, no, pastrami.
I knew it belonged between two pieces of bread.
Or two hands sandwiched at attention, at least.
The offering tasted like cole slaw,
the pickle on the wall was still moist.
How hungry are these people I thought.
Appetite lay there like an undisturbed napkin.
No one chewed, no one burped.
Lunch was free.
Was I the only one who realized
A free lunch is a naked lunch.
The crumbs lay in my lap.
I tipped the wax paper, rolled
It around my comb, and
Hummed the doxology.
I knew it belonged between two pieces of bread.
Or two hands sandwiched at attention, at least.
The offering tasted like cole slaw,
the pickle on the wall was still moist.
How hungry are these people I thought.
Appetite lay there like an undisturbed napkin.
No one chewed, no one burped.
Lunch was free.
Was I the only one who realized
A free lunch is a naked lunch.
The crumbs lay in my lap.
I tipped the wax paper, rolled
It around my comb, and
Hummed the doxology.
Access: Public
