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a m a n d a Aug 2016
sometimes you
just can't buy
your favorite cheese.

(seems simple enough)

yet all things
are veiled
under layer upon layer
of decision.
Dominic Gasbarre Apr 2014
Dear sandwiches,
You're awesome
Everything about you
Is perfect

Your swarm white bread
Baked golden-brown in a pan of butter
Crunchy on the outside
Light as a pillow on the inside

Your lettuce
Cold and crunchy like an apple
Freshly picked
A strong base layer

The cheese
So many types
Romano, Mozzarella, Pepper Jack
Muenster, Cheddar, & American

And the meat
Oh how I love you
With your savory, salted taste
You truly are what makes a sandwich

Last, but not least, the sauce
A tangy break from the norm
Dripping from the sides
A perfect mess

Thank you sandwiches
For everything
I like sandwiches
which I can prov-olone huck curd
(within Trump con feta ration) – as cheesy poem!

Yea of course writing ideas unstoppably
burst asunder at the most inconvenient
opportunities such as driving Miss Daisy,
taking a shower, or using the bathroom.
Accursed ambition becoming a prolific
wordsmith (case in point Stephen King)
Woolworth riding, oddly lumbering
lackadaisical shoehorning out this
being from a self made gully. The jury
yet to decree if attempting to extricate

muss elf from tangled web of decades
old setbacks via literary output successful.
Every morning, noon and night, this chap
blunders, flounders, (like a phish out of water),
yet plod his shipshape reclusive quiet-natured
person along the boulevard of broken dreams.
Oft times, huff hind aye muss elf entering The
Dead Zone (bordering a Pet Sematary). Earlier,
a previous saunter found me surmounting
The Green Mile. Attendant in regard to these

Bag Of Bones, and Desperation to acquire
telephone contact with Cell phone quickens
pace despite Insomnia. No matter unexpected
Sleeping Beauties warrant kisses, my determination,
motivation, and slight trepidation occasionally breeds
(The Dark Half), doomsday facet deftly jackknifing lust.
Occasionally, a feeble goading simply under minds
any corporeal aim to restore endeavor to experience
Joyland. IT (creative juices within) spur meeting Rose
Red and her restorative powers. Onward atheistic

soldier goes this chap. No matter tipping point (vis
a vis hungry fatigued body clamors for Needful Things.
Revival (for food and sleep) frequently appears grim.
Downcast state of body, mind and spirit reinforced
by mirage. The Dark Tower looms ahead! Adjacent
to ominous evil looking structure silhouette casted
of a Black House. The initial ambition to ward off
abysmal results summon forth creative literary juices.
Simultaneously a migraine headache pounding pitted LIX.
They hammer horrifically, ferociously, and diabolically.

Shades of shad rock Under The Dome. Ma noggin
Aches like The Tommyknockers! Every attempt to locate
a royal crowning coeval counterpart jinxed with laborious
ill luck. Hell in a handbasket plight usually generates
nostalgia for destiny to Carrie be back to Old Virginny.
Sage advice from Christine, Delores Claiborne, or The
Colorado Kid, yours truly blithely heeded. As a result
(The Outsider within this paperback writer wannabe)
sports defeat written all over face. Concomitant figurative
futility gussies and kickstarts leaving invisible pockmarks.

Ordinary Dreamcatcher fate invariably finds aptly named
Writer Errs Block. Need to back track arises (figuratively)
along vista. The roads have no name. They command
stubborn respect. Near impossible mission manifested
To transcend mental hindrance. This more difficult than
playing Gerald's Game. Hence sigh embrace The Shining
opportunity to avoid Misery. Doctor Sleep would undoubtedly
encourage braving, challenging self confronting The Eyes
Of The Dragon. Such a risky pursuit could force facing pitbull
Cujo. No matter gamble foisted prospect fraught frightfully

being burned at the stake by a Firestarter. Voluntary action
brings small hairs to tingle. Hunchback, sans severely curved
spine straightens. This (The Stand) ding pose offered supreme
vision as promised by The Talisman. Tidbits by me alias
Mr. Mercedes carefully just in case The Girl Who Loved
Tom Gordon chanced to stumble upon this redoubt versus
her hours spent staring at a blinking cursor. Metaphorical
po' wet tick feet took me where they would into the Shining
and happy place called Willoughby located within the outer
limits of the twilight zone.
crafted when Wallace and Gromit
returned from their trip to the moon,
which I can prov-olone huck curd
(within Trump con feta ration) –
as cheesy poem crafted whey back
when the following Gouda eye idea
occurred while milking the cows.

Yea of course writing ideas unstoppably
burst asunder at the most inconvenient
opportunities such as driving Miss Daisy,
taking a shower, or using the bathroom.
Accursed ambition becoming a prolific
wordsmith (case in point Stephen King)
Woolworth riding, oddly lumbering
lackadaisical shoehorning out this
being from a self made gully. The jury
yet to decree if attempting to extricate

muss elf from tangled web of decades
old setbacks via literary output successful.
Every morning, noon and night, this chap
blunders, flounders, (like a phish out of water),
yet plod his shipshape reclusive quiet-natured
person along the boulevard of broken dreams.
Oft times, huff hind aye muss elf entering The
Dead Zone (bordering a Pet Sematary). Earlier,
a previous saunter found me surmounting
The Green Mile. Attendant in regard to these

Bag Of Bones, and Desperation to acquire
telephone contact with Cell phone quickens
pace despite Insomnia. No matter unexpected
Sleeping Beauties warrant kisses, my determination,
motivation, and slight trepidation occasionally breeds
(The Dark Half), doomsday facet deftly jackknifing lust.
Occasionally, a feeble goading simply under minds
any corporeal aim to restore endeavor to experience
Joyland. IT (creative juices within) spur meeting Rose
Red and her restorative powers. Onward atheistic

soldier goes this chap. No matter tipping point (vis
a vis hungry fatigued body clamors for Needful Things.
Revival (for food and sleep) frequently appears grim.
Downcast state of body, mind and spirit reinforced
by mirage. The Dark Tower looms ahead! Adjacent
to ominous evil looking structure silhouette casted
of a Black House. The initial ambition to ward off
abysmal results summon forth creative literary juices.
Simultaneously a migraine headache pounding pitted
courtesy spluttering, nauseating, and foaming LIX spittle.
They hammer horrifically, ferociously, and diabolically.

Shades of shad rock Under The Dome. Ma noggin
Aches like The Tommyknockers! Every attempt to locate
a royal crowning coeval counterpart jinxed with laborious
ill luck. Hell in a handbasket plight usually generates
nostalgia for destiny to Carrie be back to Old Virginny.
Sage advice from Christine, Delores Claiborne, or The
Colorado Kid, yours truly blithely heeded. As a result
(The Outsider within this paperback writer wannabe)
sports defeat written all over face. Concomitant figurative
futility gussies and kickstarts leaving invisible pockmarks.

Ordinary Dreamcatcher fate invariably finds aptly named
Writer Errs Block. Need to back track arises (figuratively)
along vista. The roads have no name. They command
stubborn respect. Near impossible mission manifested
To transcend mental hindrance. This more difficult than
playing Gerald's Game. Hence sigh embrace The Shining
opportunity to avoid Misery. Doctor Sleep would undoubtedly
encourage braving, challenging self confronting The Eyes
Of The Dragon. Such a risky pursuit could force facing pitbull
Cujo. No matter gamble foisted prospect fraught frightfully

being burned at the stake by a Firestarter. Voluntary action
brings small hairs to tingle. Hunchback, sans severely curved
spine straightens. This (The Stand) ding pose offered supreme
vision as promised by The Talisman. Tidbits by me alias
Mr. Mercedes carefully just in case The Girl Who Loved
Tom Gordon chanced to stumble upon this redoubt versus
her hours spent staring at a blinking cursor. Metaphorical
po' wet tick feet took me where they would into the Shining
and happy place called Willoughby located within the outer
limits of the twilight zone.
dramatically expanding spouse,
when adorning buttons
pop off undersized blouse
which spurs yours truly to grouse,
and ruffle mine tail feathers
while listening to Scheherazade.

Eats her weigh out of home and house
unsolicited feedback courtesy
quite doubtful, she could pose
for ******* and/or penthouse
returning explicit volley
of trailing appellations lobbed

expletive laced epithets
directed at her husband the louse
in lame retaliation deftly
sparring as he doth rouse
himself out of his vittle catatonic state
thus muenster ring cheeses crust
squeaks (me) meek Mickey Mouse.

When I did pledge troth
after courtship she would not abate
aboot two plus dozen years ago
(spoiler alert) wheezing
heterosexually straight
half heartedly accepting her

asthma wife sne...
snee...sneezing mate
even then, she exhibited
appetite for consumption
defying four foot eleven
petite size then, a score
plus quarter years ago lightweight
possessed cute figure.

Now, she eats
non stop while rocking round the clock
stationing, lumbering, burgeoning
girth casting dock
shadows analogous to
edge of night
donning humongous frock
to allow growing room
for extra buttock

vacuuming any/all
comestibles in sight
downing, emptying, gulping
refrigerator contents chock a block
nearly suctioning him,
who doth tongue in cheek mock
think apple pie, yet for
grace of dog ad hoc
anchoring spindleshanks laughingstock
skinny chicken legs (mine)

with knees that knock
worse than concentration camp victim,
(this gentile Jewish atheist gently pock
king fun without intent to rock
the casbah, nor ethnically clash
mainly innocent poetic schlock),
nonetheless chicken legs
repurposed to anchor lock
stock and barrel Matthew Scott
madly flapping wings imitating flock

of seagulls to no avail
this shabby not so chic flabby baby boomer
body, mum mama
(deceased eighteen plus years)
followed dietary strictures touted by
the late Doctor Benjamin McLane Spock,
no matter, I got hoovered
into maw of tee misses,
who instantaneously
spit out awful poppycock.
Yours truly would never be confused for a gourmand, nevertheless I could enjoy experiencing taste testing select food samples if offered an opportunity of attending a fancy feast viz smörgåsbord, whereby oral indulgence would arouse, excite, inflict outstanding pleasure upon every taste bud on mine tongue.

Asia generic gastronomy guy, I know how one can wolf down gourmet foods witnessing expanding girth; a destructive transformation clearly beyond any excessive enthusiasm. The necessity to feed and clothe this corporeal essence christened Cookie Muenster revels more so within the medium of writing.

Aspirations toward fame nor fortune less significant than the mere pleasure to concoct a visually savory appetizing epistle. Food for thought more than to fill the void, where growling heard across the world wide web, thus, no anterior, interior or ulterior motive asper begging for money underlies this exercise. yet...if perchance a voluntary choice arises to dole out a smidgen of legal tender a name and address indeed willingly linkedin to this faux popinjay person, who tries to convey decency, humility, levity...qualities that wield zest.

Food glorious food I savor
across the gamut of tastes,
not more than one over another
does yours truly favor.

Though anonymous hungry for fame
well fed writer wannabe and hardly
a substantially sized married baby boomer,
which dual disadvantages partly explains
lack of ubiquity among claque of cooks,
yet cautiously optimistic if I plug away
and craft this, that or another poem
yours truly would be in seventh heaven
if tinkering with words
could bring me bread and butter.

Many popular rotund
corpulent gourmands tame
their hungry beasthood easily put me to shame
vis a vis consuming in their one meal,
what yours truly eats in a lifetime,
none of those celery buddies,
whom this non-television watcher can name
seen on any selective cable channel
portly chaps exuding, inviting,
and offering odysseys
to appease palate uttering l'chaim,

I still revel in writing while on the hunt
(during Red October) for a meme
poetry and prose, and decided
absent clear and present danger
to introduce myself quite lame
with a NON-GMO marginal uptick
in any sudden fortune or fame,
yet twould be pleasantly syrup prized
if desire and interest to enjoy a repast
from potential buxom waitress didst exclaim

enthusiastically ideally after subtly
trying get her attention
said hypothetical well-fed dame,
and if perchance such just desserts
came via the kitchen maiden kitty,
versus kit chin middens
no boastful claim
would be uttered by me,
verboten fruits denied me
mine lack of politesse I would blame
her intellectual company satisfactory aim.

First and foremost on the agenda,
would be to locate an affordable,
casual and favorable eatery
tubby agreeable to our wallet and taste
indubitable choice without
(absent any formal dress code),
lettuce go further haste.

Strait away to the great weigh
(or if vegetarian – whey)
station of delectable food
where the exquisite, expertise, and exotic
high steak king claim on:
Peterson's Field Guide, Michelin Guide,
Gayot Guide/Gault Millau, American
Automobile Association, Forbes
Travel Guide reputation good.

Testimony to legendary praise
explaining why patrons travel
for countless days
transforming him/her
into a steady state,
where he/she shuffles along
in a dishabille quotidian famished daze
far and wide culinary craze
out of this world wide web,
the wispy Uber Lyft
wafts trace steamy filament up braise
through nostrils of our noses,
whereat heads nod affirmation i.e. ayes.

Even before making a glad entrance
(into Restaurant) complete
a host of fresh, enticing,
and delicious aromas serve as a treat.

Delicate, foreign, hefty indescribable
ole factory stimulants delight
infiltrating thru swinging kitchen doors
holding us smell bound,
though thin filaments invisibly light.

Thus upon a strategic seat, we hoped for,
or politely sought from the manager of the house
ah, our luck to be situated in close proximity,
where impossibility to stave off gaming hunger,
though neither myself
nor honorable guest grouse.

Now decision time to select one delicacy equally
as appealing as the next on expansive menu list,
the resultant penultimate
decision method resorted to twist
then flick (with eyes closed) the wrist.

This once difficult task complete
twas now the responsibility of the maitre'd
to store within his/her memory,
which tummy appeared like an amazing
sumptuous (promising scrumptious) feat
Minutes ticked away
as our stomachs growled louder
patiently awaiting the grateful moment
to dine starting with clam chowder
hello poetrysoup compiled
within me taste testing router.

Next in line from smörgåsbord feast
hors-d'oeuvres ample enough
to satiate thine palate
to whet from deep-fried delicacies greased
and self-restraint practiced
so the main course diminished least.

We fell upon butterfly jumbo shrimp
and marinated mushrooms when brought
an atavistic motion that memory wrought.

The Matzo ball soup with Jewish rye bread
went to the gullet with a dollop
of butter thinly spread.

A vegetable, venerable, veritable, and spinach pie
herbivorous delight, the apple of my eye.

Parmigiana, pasta, and poultry
(albeit free-ranging
NON-GMO and gluten-free) dishes galore
kept off the figurative lid
(no matter stuffed to gills
ready to be mounted) to eat more
quite aware that mine waist
bulged whereby beltway buckle tore.

Last (but not least)
at the FINIS of this well-stocked meal
comprises the selection of dessert,
which samples visible
from a glass-enclosed wheel
tickling that reserved “off limits” hot pocket
hashtagged for just such a sugary treat
thus summoning forth
within an engorged abdomen,
nonetheless, an audible zeal.

That reserved allotted sweet
baked, fried, or whipped parfait
or countless other grandiose
mouthwatering delicacy.

Ah...juiced enough wiggle room
for one decadent byte, perchance small
enough to roll around in the mouth,
like a Chocolate Mousse, or a honey ball.

Despite feeling ready to explode
hence yours truly uttering oy vey
simply eyeing a food tray
no longer in an ala mode vis a vis
clamoring for consumption
well aware of the morrow or sooner
this bloated dirigible fulfilled human,
would dearly caloric wise
despite going Dutch heavily pay
witness by need pointing
all the way to highest number
showing us how much we weigh
penny wise pound foolish yay!
Yours truly quite astute,
especially regarding cute
little field mice, also known
as meadow voles,
which imprecation one doth emote,
when aforementioned animal burrows inside
leaving pellet size **** in their wake
suddenly presenting a pain in the glute.

Analogous to swiss cheese
fecklessness riddled **** sapien
writer, whom he himself
cannot Provolone equality
for Mus musculus to live,
exception viz one named Stuart Little
as equal among indomitable realm
dominated by bipedal hominids
said species arrogated
since time immemorial
self superior holier than thou tenet
and dictum governing hegemony
across webbed wide world,

which supposed word of creator
conveniently got interpreted to mean;
"Be fertile and multiply;
fill the earth and subdue
every square inch courtesy
trappings of western civilizations,
henceforth since the dawn
of consciousness, when primates
such as Sahelanthropus tchadensis,
**** habilis, **** erectus,
and **** heidelbergensis evolved
to slowly but surely

wield dominion over
the fish of the sea,
the birds of the air,
and all living things
that move on the earth,”
their subsequent descendents relegated
every creature deemed inferior
and thus (no pun intended)
fair game across proverbial
eminent domain, thus justified,
ordained, usurped, et cetera
courtesy manifest destiny,
particularly mostly aborigines.

Against bullet proof credo, ethos,
and genuine holistic integrity
to respond to such an event
as Minnie's or Mickey's, no matter
an ohm my cat reluctance arises
to don and trumpet role as "killer"
tis with only the means and ways
to avoid health crisis that I
hesitantly didst exterminate existence
of other critters decried as pestilential

so please no unsolicited
mouse a lean knee black barbs
against this august gent
tis a marvel to evince the behaviour
of rapaciousness, when nary a hint
extant within me - except,
at a crossroads arises
when vermin take residence
as per mentioned earlier
as an unpaid inhabitant,

this one mortal married male loathes
to distribute deathly lethal instrument
innocuous morsels of D-CON
doth not make me feel jubilant
this chap doth newt believe
dangerous buggars ought
be be consigned with tender loving care
but certainly less cruel fate
versus getting lethally euthanized,
eradicated and essentially

charged with heinous crime
such as ****** committed by a litigant
slapped unfairly suffer being poisoned
imposing forfeiture reprisal
tomb the tinker-bell tolls
visa vis a role in the realm
within flora and fauna not meant
for humans decreeing vermin
lack purposelessness,
and must be exterminated

to own rights qua life, liberty
and the pursuit of happiness
quietly when staking out an alcove,
cupboard, or mauve wainscoting
reproduction of discriminated,
hashtagged, and targeted mammals
would nonchalantly find safe haven
exiting man made confines if left
to their biological devices,
this millennial saga of mice and men

perhaps Noah occident,
and no matter what means
one approaches pursuant
to rid the house of mice,
these creatures reboot toxic tolerance
to incorporate schemes
quite innovative within floorboards,
deep chambers viz hitting
expansive domestic quadrant
this Brie zee, cream cheesy,

though temporarily dislodged per demise,
the recurrent adaptation reverberant
and stupefy supreme survival skill re:
by a modus operandi
with adaptive qualities salient
ta dum me little nimble,
opal and quizzical rodents
lacking redolence tubby mammals,
though their existence
and devil's blue diet tribe curd dish rant

might be diametrically opposed
to American ethics committee, who slant
the bald (also balled), bold,
and brazen cordon bleu appearance
analogous to a vagrant, unrepentant truant
sans more than one little
furry Muenster of scurrying critters
spur this heir force deputy
issues a poisoned search warrant.

— The End —