It's always better late then never
so it's par for the night when he gets a moment
to nourish the soul that so many souls depend upon
guarding the vision of g-d seen in the red potatoes
but a meal is a meal
and it's hard work to manage such a siege.
The sauce is so creamy he thinks
surely it must be the milk of a kid
and so I will close my eyes for a minutes
abandon my religion to savor this meal despite penalties
for a deal is a deal
and it's hard work to teach.
Through the doors the horns call the first dance
the remains of his hasty meal shoved aside
and he will then stand and don his black frock
a messiah unnamed ready to preach of a second coming
for what is real is real
and some truth in what bites he eats.