sunday mornings on callused knees, praise our vengeful gilded god who delivers us from thought and choice, pledge allegiance and partake, these blessed burger bits his body, these tangy ketchup sips his blood, transformed, transforming, and oh how we savor these morsels, cradle them on tongues till they’re sucked dry and tasteless, savor them during endless rallymass, savor their memory through hungry crumb days, our empty stomachs and heads and hearts fueling his great works, the mighty war on woke, and someone whispers remember eggs? and someone whispers remember Sofía? and someone says shh! and we swallow, we swallow, amen.
