packed like pickles in a cloudy jar?
Slimy, wart-pocked, shriveled by salt-brine,
they too have not seen the light
of the sun for a long time.
See how you almost pity these catastrophes,
now that they appear weightless
and harmlessly sour, now
that they no longer remind you
of who you are?
Notice your mouth even start to water a bit
as you consider their time-accrued flavor—
balanced up tight against
savory meat and sweet carbohydrate,
and no more harmful to you at this point
than a little too much garlic
on this last summer night.