Sandwiched between the ham and the cheese
(The meat is young and supple and ingenious
well-schooled and active
Perhaps a bit full of itself
The cheese stands alone at the pinnacle of it all
Yeasty, aged and exquisite)
Where does that leave me?
The pickle? Sliding around between cheese slices?
So indefinite
God forbid, the mayo?
I say nayo!
Perhaps I'll be the slice of pickled ginger
slipped in-between the layers
A surprise sweet and sour
Independent of the pork and the dairy
No need of cousin Dill or
Colonel Mustard
Yet full of complements.

From our latest Poetry Jam session.