French Fries: Because I Love It

Consumed one at a time or all at once,

or shared with friends, the ones who've earned the right.

It's not potato wedges, mashed, or baked,

but golden strips called fries, ones eaten dipped

in ketchup, gravy, ranch, honey mustard,

sour cream, mayo, tartar, poutine, hot sauce,

with fried chicken, burger, grilled steak, kebab,

enjoyed by all around the hungry globe.

————

How would you like being

boiled alive in murderous waters,

then dipped in the thick-skinned oil—

so loud the sizzling 

of your flesh echoes?

Because I love it.

Rain

The rain must pour, the windows fogged; 
The gurgling cyclone spits and gongs
inside the bone-spring of acid 
where mucus seesaws up and down

The selfsame fountain feeds my eyes 
Aboil as conscience of a saint; 
or fish soup that prolongs the strain 
of homeless underneath the rain.