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The Donut Men

02-09-04 - 12:16 a.m.

The Donut Men

by Toilets


We are the donuts
We are the jelly donuts
Boxed together
Eclairs filled with custard. Yum!
Our dried glaze, when
We rub together
Is sticky and powdery
As sugar in dry water
Or powdered sugar over chocolate frosting
In our pink box.

Frosting without sprinkles, taste without flavor,
Caramelized sand, donut without sugar;

Those who have crossed
With direct tongues, to death's other Kitchen
Remember us -- if at all -- not as sweet
Succulent bread, but only
As the donuts
The jelly donuts.


Tongues I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kitchen
These do not appear:
There, the tongues are
Caffeine on a moldy bagel
There, is a fly dropping
And voices are
In the wind's belching
More distant and more fragrant
Than a rotting cheese.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kitchen
Let me also wear
Such deliberate ingredients
Rock salt, chipotle, hoisin sauce
In a pan
Behaving as the oil behaves
No nearer --
Not that final mixing
In the twilight kitchen


This is the ice box
This is freezer box
Here the bland leftovers
Are chilled, here they postpone
The expiration of a bad meal's use
Under the fungus on a rotting cheese.

Is it like this
In death's other kitchen
Cooling alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Teeth that would bite
Form prayers to broken bread.


The tongues are not here
There are no tongues here
In this bucket of greenish cheese
In this plastic baggie
This broken jaw of our lost kitchens

In this last of mixing places
We melt together
And avoid sauce
Gathered on this edge of the frying pan

Tasteless, unless
The tongues reappear
As the parmesan cheese
Multifoliate balm
Of death's twilight kitchen
The hope only
Of garlic bread.


Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the oven.

Between the meal
And the recipe
Between the menu
And the chef
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kitchen

Between the concoction
And the tasting
Between the craving
And the order
Falls the Shadow

Broiling is very slow

Between the hunger
And the stomach
Between the potency
And the digestion
Between the chewing
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kitchen

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the meal ends
This is the way the meal ends
This is the way the meal ends
Not with a lick but a swallow.

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Fiction: Ye Most Lamentable Comedy of Dr. John Doe Faustus

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