I just had to.  Send it out.

Sprinkle it with salt.

It wasn’t neat, not at all – it was

mayo spread thick over bread,

gushes over the edge

butter slapped onto it

onto the crusty corners sweet

and lavished with tomatoes

bright red juicy tomatoes –

the devil’s fruit, and I stacked ’em high

as I wish I were high as I wish I were high

and threw them out into the world

discus style – one here, one there-

here you go, provecho-

sandwiches, holy moly sandwiches

that collided into things and people and

things and people and things and people until

someone said, “I like tomato on bread with mayo

and butter and mayo and butter and mayo and butter

because the world is like that bright red juicy

green and blue and green and blue tomato.”

and someone else said, “Why?”

I  didn’t even know,

“Just DO it.” Oh Holy Muse,

thy dictate I shall obey,

Oh my Lover.