have arrived in Bumpass, Virginia, nor is there any
rationale for why we detoured to take a picture.
I wanted frosting in a bad way and stopped
at the Piggly Wiggly to buy a cardboard can of blue Duncan Hines,
a ham steak, and locally produced strawberry jam.
Trending are tall cakes with two-inch frosting
that I want to apply onto the back of your neck with a putty knife.
They are eating cake without it, enjoying it without fat…bullshit.
Give me frosting with flour, eggs, sugar, and baking soda.
Give me the law to cram down your throat. Give me a spoon
to dig into the can and smear on the small of your back.
I am celebrating the death of thick colored lard with sugar,
red dye #10 and filamentous crystals, pulverized at the factory
with commercial rollers and antiseptic sprays. I am living
on the edge of the edge of the wall, the sweet divisionous sector
of pious disrespect for science and order.
I am in love with frosting, froth, and frenzy; with Bumpass, Virginia,
and the manager of Piggly Wiggly, who gave me a hug and a coupon
for one free ham steak with the purchase of a slab of Wright’s bacon.
About John Dorroh:
Whether John Dorroh taught any high school biology is still up for grabs. However, he showed up every morning at 6:45 with at least two lesson plans. His poetry has appeared in Suisun Valley Review, Dime Show Review, Rat's Ass Review, Sick Lit, Walk Write-up, Indigent press, and others. He also dabbles with short fiction and the occassional rant.
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