. The Poet's Beat .

. The Poet's Beat .

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Hot Dogs and Nachos

Finally, and not soon enough, the last of the fabled Regal Series poems... And for a lowly, poor college kid working behind the concession stand at the movie theater, what awful, fetid, revolting icon better represents the experience than this wholly un-delectable treat? With sticky yellow fingers I wrote this down one day...


Everywhere you go
you can get hot dogs and nachos.
It’s only here that you can
sit down and enjoy them.
Or is it only here you can get them?
Or is it enjoy them?
Is it nachos at all?

Man, I’m having a ball just trying to
figure this whole thing out.
But that’s what life is about.
Or is it hot dogs and nachos?
A brilliant combination,
just hard to find –
together.

Or can you find them easily?
Or is it just the hot dogs
that are easy to find?
Maybe it’s just easier to
sit down to enjoy them.
Or do you sit down with nachos only?

I dream in hot dogs and nachos,
in chili and cheese.
I enjoy them both,
but not when I sit down,
and I never
eat them here.

1.2004


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