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THE OGRE IN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL
He likes an egg
without a shell, cracked
by the careless act
of a grocery store clerk.
There's always some jerk
who could make you sick
then read your obit
with a pained expression
as if that session
and consequence grim
had nothing to do
with him.
The Og. loves
spaghetti
is always ready
when you've got
a question
of indigestion.
He loves a meal
of apple peel
(forgive me Giuseppi
of the Pinnochio
story). I do not care
for apple peel,
and though the Og.
is small, he
gobbles it all.
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