“To many, SPAM is the epitome of horror in a can,
a filthy amalgam of discarded orts of industrial animal slaughter
and sinister chemical additives that require
a doctorate in chemistry—or necromancy—to decipher . . .
a noxious culinary miscreant.”
—Robert Ji-Song Ku
“Without Spam, we wouldn’t have been able to feed our army.
We had lost our most fertile lands.”
—Nikita Khrushchev
the jargons of symbolic hatred are doing a lot of heavy lifting here
in the submerged halftime of plaint versus luxury
scrimshaw supplicants but hurtling toward a very small jug
please just smooth this ointment for me
please acknowledge the rope that makes the sails work
(clarion thou tho)
(the word is taught as a substitute for a facial expression or gesture.)
i dunno, spork blossom. pilfer camp. oblique edges haunt the villa
the grammar our bodies have despite our work to obliterate grammar
glow of luggage as it returns to mere cargo-dom
banks glisten in the dream of a zero-party state
blanks glisten in the dream of wading into infinite solubility and walking thru whole in their thirst
and their dollar-store flip-flops
dark life swarms even dentists have enemies
long long ago now
bawdy cavalry search
hurry up chief. follow that dingus