I hold on to plastic cutlery in case I need it
I stuff condiment packets into my bag
which I may never use
maybe mustard

there's black forest ham on my lungs
my breath comes out in smoked chicken shreds
I've got turkey on the brain
and a foul tongue

my poor face leaks mayonnaise
on good days, and anyways
the tomatoes under my skin leave me soggy
any time I work too much

things can still get spicy
a cajun smoke
or jamaican jerk
a fresh loaf of bread
wasted on burnt toast

I've got plenty of roast beef
with this and that salami guy
over there, and sometimes
I almost care for a pickle

sure, there ain't too much cream
save my cheesy lady
what a slice of heaven she is!
and my friends are always saying
I got good taste

I got a mind like a toothpick
keeping me together, like
so I don't fall back to a pile of loose flesh
in a corner somewhere

I've had my rotten days, for sure
but these days I got life
like a lunch meat sandwich
what you got?