about two months ago
i dreamt that i was eating a chicken sandwich
from burger king
and since that night
i have had increased my intake of chicken
sandwiches from burger king

of course
there’s a burger king
on my way home from work
that glowing siren
singing me to shipwreck
right at the tail end of my
ten hour long work

four days a week
two times a day
i have to drive by that
godless whore of a
burger king
with her majestic
window mural
of a chicken sandwich
shining in the golden light
of halogen heaven

you have to understand
part of me acknowledges that
burger king is a capitalistic
corporate burger-making entity
that rolls obesity down
its assembly lines for insanely
disturbingly low prices
i’ve heard rumors that the
charbroiled taste on their burgers
is less flames dancing on an
all beef patty but more so
a mad scientist emulating the taste
of said smoke
a chemically perfect alternate burger
delivered by a fascist fast food joint
slowly devouring american life
into chunky zombie clones
part of me acknowledges that

but part of me knows that
the chicken sandwich at burger king
is a work of art
worthy of sacrifice to the gods

whoever decided that the masses deserved
to eat their chicken sandwich
on an eight inch long bun
with an insanely correct amount of
deserves the shiniest fucking gold medal
delivered to their door by aphrodite herself

it is glorious

and now it has snuck its way
into my dreams and i can’t stop thinking
about it and it floats above my head
like a mysterious levitating orb
taunting me as i try to lay me down to

but you don’t care
you’ve got your own shit
you don’t understand my pain
you don’t understand what i go through
you’ve got your super important problems
and part of me understands and respects that
but don’t you fucking ever claim to know
the pain that i feel
eternally inside of me

this sandwich
this entity
has entered my life
jumped into my soul and it will not let me be
until it eventually kills me
in bloody ecstatic joy
this ebola which is
the chicken sandwich from burger king
with the god damn sesame seeds and all
it speaks to me when the air is silent
it spoons me to sleep each night
this love will kill me

and i know what you’re thinking
this guy is fucking crazy
and what the hell happened to his poetry
but if you were paying attention now you know
my poetry was stolen from me
by this she-devil that is
the chicken sandwich from burger king




on good days
abby and i go to the burger king
down the street from my parent’s house
and order french fries
we park in the wal-mart parking lot
and as we roll down our electric windows
the fat seagulls approach the car
waddling over
and we throw french fries to them
we do this on good days
it’s one of my favorite things to do

of course,
the birds always fight over the french fries
there’s always the fattest and most aggressive one
and there’s always one that abby points at and says
“aw, he hasn’t gotten one…”
and abby, my huge-hearted sister
will do whatever she has to do to make sure
that bird gets a fry

we always turn the music off while we do this
at the burger king at wads and quincy
down the street from our childhoods
it makes me miss my youth spent on a bike
it makes me miss abby
she’s so busy and i’m so busy
i’m so proud of her
she gets up everyday and goes to school then to work
she gets up early to dress nice and do her hair
while i sit in my car writing poems about birds