Title Our Authors

Hot Dogs

By Lee A. Nelson

Yes

they are bologna

but for all the

grinded

squished

pressed

and compacted

gross entrails

tongues

hoofs

snouts

and solid organs

that birth

the sheet meat

and well formed

defecations

via tried and true

ancient

technologies

of simple

will and weight

over surrendered

and grizzly

executed

carcasses

 

we're not talking

birds of a feather here.

Even as the birds slap

your sliding glass window

at the speed of absolute

cluelessness

not even close

 

and for fully

unnecessary

transparency

(no pun intended)

I once ate one of those birds

so I would know.

 

Even the best bologna

is tasty sustenance.

Nothing more.

 

Just the right

hot dog

can be the most

gloriously

hedonistic

decadence

of shameless

and heartless

culinary invention

straight from the 'taint

of the ugliest god.

 

All you need is

copious onions

a meager mustard

and an even more

meager Wonderbread roll

and the fullest flavors

of sinful Hell

bear their undignified

elations

to your tongue and teeth.

 

You can go to Hell

for a lot of reasons.

Eating a hot dog

isn't among them

so you may as well

eat Hell's food

enjoy life

and hopefully

go to Heaven.

 

A hot dog

can fill this bill.

Bologna

doesn't stand a chance.

 

 

 

 

 

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