Poet Patricia Lockwood Dreams of Roasted Pturkeydactyls


2 p.m.: I sit in my backyard eating a chicken sandwich and sighing tragically after every bite. The sandwich is as cold as the universe. Here's the thing. I don't need to be rich, I just need to make enough money so that I can sometimes eat at one of those places that makes your sandwich hot for you. I don't know why but it seems so hard to make your sandwich hot at home, even though it should be easy.

Date: 2014-09-06 10:21 pm (UTC)From: [personal profile] agnosis1975
Good lord.

Actually, reading that made me want breakfast.

Profile

italiceyeball: Orange Octopus (Default)
All Eight

August 2017

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
1314 15 16171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Tags

Page Summary

Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 02:43 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios