1120
something about pepper
jack
keeps turning in the steel drum concrete mix of my mind
those four words
repeated with a pop pop pop
a mangled foreign accent
perhaps belonging to the pepper farmer

sometimes an addition
there's just something about pepper jack
sometimes a gooey pause
something about pepper Jack

and as the words tumble
a lone shoe, laces clipping the hot white steel sides
through my mind and lose all sense of meaning
they slip out
holding the lock to mute the click
of my mouth
when someone asks
in perfect fate
what i would like for lunch
1126