Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Poor Sheese

Hello, block of soy cheese. I am looking at you as though I am hungry, but I am not. I just ate a rice bowl spiked with almonds, avocado, seeds and tofu. My stomach is full yet I want you still. Why is that, you ask? Here is my answer, in three parts.

1. I am sad that writing is so hard;
2. I am perplexed that no one wants my little book;
3. You are sitting in my fridge, alone, with no brave cheese guards to defend you.

I suppose, dear soy cheese (may I call you "Sheese"?), that I want to eat you because I can. Because I can unwrap you from your plastic suit, open my mouth and, well, nahm nahm nuhm. You see, I have the power in our relationship and I like that about Us. It's a refreshing change, I must admit, our funny sheese-human dynamic. I don't need an agent to chew you and I don't need an editor to digest you. It's just you and me, Sheese. We're in this together.

It's unfortunate that you're so delicious and not in publishing.

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