hot cheez doodles

Not long ago I read a passage from a 1989 journal which covered the summer before I went to Durham, England for a year. I was working in a local potato chip factory, an experience which inspired the following poem dated August 11:

“You smell like a potato chip!”

O mecca — hot cheez doodles

I lay them in their bed

hot snacks

so beautiful–

your wastage fills the waste bins

and we trail them to the dump shrine

wayfaring proletariat that we are.

O potato

O alienation

what are we breeding

the machine and I?

2 thoughts on “hot cheez doodles”

  1. O dear, Tamika brought home curlique puffed-cheetos the other day for some unfathomable reason, and I was sent back in time to hearing horror stories of raining hot cheez doodles. I even felt guilty eating the aforementioned cheetos (but guilt rarely trumps gluttony so they made it to my gullet). What is UP, Ms. Cafrinie? Ps, I liked your pomme de terre poem.

  2. Yes, I can imagine you reciting it. Enjoyed blog, the world should recognise your genius more!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.