Vegetables. You always worried about me eating enough vegetables. I eat them now, I promise. I salt them with my tears.
I eat all vegetables except broccoli. Broccoli is grief, green corrugated cardboard I choke on. It tastes awful raw. It clogs up the garbage disposal. It doesn’t fit in the trash. I’m substituting brussel sprouts instead. But I still find broccoli in the refrigerator.
I tried to stuff my life into the microwave, since it’s zapped without you. But it didn’t fit. I steam my vegetables in the microwave instead.
I don’t bread or fry my vegetables. My brain is fried, so I eat my head.
My head is a brussel sprout. I eat it salted.
published in Scuzzbucket
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