we stood poised on the anicent promontory
our nice egg salad sandwiches almost forgotten
and shouted advertsing slogans into the void
our casually foundering corn plasters
could not have anticipated the
eschatological implications of
murray's brain souffle recipie
or his unkempt marsupial meanderings
through rivers of undiluted capybera sweat
this plateau, where the engines of time
go to change their oil
and untold bleary-eyed pilgrims
risked their weight in flan,
shudders with topological ennui
at the sight of our ebullient
pack animal morsel taster interns
i would chew a cilantro yak-steak
if there were any good tibetan restaurants
in the vicinty
but there are no hors d'ouvres in purgatory
thank you and goodnight
-- "Cream of Nicaragua Soup" Darren Zieger 1998
