Ode to Lunch Meats

I have a ham sandwich it is good I love my ham sandwich I put mustard on it the mustard interacts with the ham to make a flavor that no other food can equal I wish I was my ham sandwich I would smear mustard on my body, to be one with the flavor I would dance with the baloney Dance let me show my love for the baloney dance with the baloney dance with the ham dance with the chicken breast she's the sexiest mistress of all three but never never never never tell the others I said that they might try to choke me here comes luncheon meat she is the slut of lunchmeats she looks like meat she tastes like some wonderful meat of the gods but nobody knows what she's made of she might have chicken she might have ham maybe some baloney maybe even SPAM but nobody really knows I wish I was a ham sandwich I would cover my body in mustard and then eat myself end it all like the ham sandwich I amWeclome to the horrifying place that is my inner mind, here on display for the world to see, for the first time ever. If you like this poem, go eat a ham sandwich, with just the right amount of mustard on it. Dance with your baloney, make it feel loved. Written January 10th, 2002 © on Mar 07 2002 01:01 PM PST   10 • 0 • 14