to my good friend whose salad I laughed at

I’m so sorry that I laughed
until I cried and was
rendered incapable of speech
at what appeared to be
your food order. It was not
the fact that you were served
a very large kale salad
that came with some kind of bread (pita?)
that made me convulse,
though in the Stygian gloom
of the back room
at my favorite venue,
that dish did look like
some Lovecraftian concoction,
all dark strangling seaweeds
and mysterious white monoliths,
that I did not know existed
in the universe, let alone was
something from the menu
at this establishment
where I consider myself to be
pretty familiar with all the offerings
available. I’m sure it was
delicious, but that salad seriously
looked like it was
about to rise up from your plate
and claim all our souls
in Cthulhu’s name.

but that alone still wasn’t what
made me laugh so hard.
it was the way
that my exact first reaction
of mingled shock and horror
was reflected so perfectly
on the face of my friend to the right
when I glanced at him. for some reason
that flipped a switch
in my brain that made the whole thing
unbearably hilarious.

I know it might have looked like
I was laughing at you, and for that
I am very sorry.

So, how was it?

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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