Reuben

Oh Reuben how you sit there

On the order out table

The heat lamps amplifying your features

                                                                                                     

I look into those two brown slices

Of rye bread

That melted Swiss cheese

Why do you insist on tempting me?

That smell of your peppered perfume

That radiant thousand island glow

That red corned beef dress

I want you

I want to bite your soft

Breaded like flesh

I want to digest you

Taste your sour center

Make you apart of me

I already ordered the salad

My belly is already full

I need to watch my weight

I just sit and stare

As you stare back

The orange lamps reflecting

Off your serving

Oh Reuben

They carry you off

To your destiny

Your future

That is not

My tummy