The Disease is its Remedy

There is no happiness like mine.

I have been eating poetry.

-Mark Strand

I have crumbs around the corners of my mouth.

I am a man of Herculean appetites.

I eat poetry like potato chips.

I have been told to vary my diet.

You should indulge in more food groups, they say.

Too much of one thing will give you a stomachache.

But I have a unique condition.

I am prescribed to eat poetry for the rest of my days.

Do not cry for me; it is a happy ailment.

I will round up other inkblot hearts who have a taste for salt.

We will pass around books, licking them.

We will whinny and stomp with joy.

This poem has been laced with MSG.

The bag is done.

I can't eat just one.

Greg Santos

Paris, France

January 25, 2011