Sispoof

With apologies to John Donne’s The Indifferent.

I can love both wheat and white;
That which the oven melts, and that served slightly chilled;
That which needs provolone, and that with pickles dilled;
That which is deep fat fried, or which is lite;
That with tuna, and that with meat;
That which delights with peppers’ heat,
And that which has honey’d mustard sweet;
Sandwiches many, I will gladly eat.

Will no other food content me?
Will it not serve to eat a burger, or whatever?
Or have I so, on bread and meat, become fixated ever?
Or doth a fear of foods so new torment me?
Oh, sandwiches are good, I know.
I eat them because it is so.
Rob me, and bind me up, and be my foe,
But do not take my sandwiches from me,
Or make me eat each new food that you do see.

Subway heard me sigh this song,
And by marketing scheme, big moola, it swore
If I would write it down, and then make the poem a whore
To sell, commercialled, to the fast-food throng.
I said, “Hell yes! Some four or three
Or even two hundred will be
Enough to ‘stablish a bargain with me.”
I did not tell them that mere sandwich whole,
Or even a half sandwich would have bought my soul.