Bliss Point or What Can Best Be Achieved by Cheese



        the other gold.


                 Now that's the stuff,


                         shredded or melted


                                   or powdered


                                         or canned.




                                  the pinnacle of man


                    in a cheeto puff!


   Now that's the stuff


                     you've been primed for:


                                         fatty & salty & crunchy


            and poof—gone. There's the proof.


Though your grandmother


                    never even had one. You can't


                               have just one. You


                                        inhale them puff—


                                                            after puff—


                                                        after puff—


                            You're a chain smoker. Tongue


                   coated & coaxed


but not saturated or satiated.


                    It's like pure flavor,


                             but sadder. Each pink ping


                                              in your pinball-mouth


                                                      expertly played


                       by the makers who have studied you,


                         the human animal, and culled


               from the rind


your Eve in the shape


                           of a cheese curl.




                           come curl in the dim light of the TV.


                       Veg out on the verge of no urge


               of anything.


Long ago we beached ourselves,


                      climbed up the trees then


                             down the trees,


                                  knuckled across the dirt


                  & grasses & thorns & Berber carpet.


                             Now is the age of sitting,


                      so sit.


And I must say,


         crouched on the couch like that,


              you resemble no animal.


                     Smug in your Snuggie and snug


                                    in your sloth, you look


                               nothing like a sloth.


And you are not an anteater,


                     an anteater eats ants


                                   without fear


                        of diabetes. Though breathing,


      one could say, resembles a chronic disease.


                                                                          What's real


                  cheese and what is cheese product?


                  It's difficult to say


     but being alive today


                        is real–






                   like a book you can't put down, a stone


            that plummets from a great height. Life's


         a ''page-turner" alright.


             But don't worry


                                if you miss the finale


                                        of your favorite show, you can


                                            catch in on queue. Make room


                                 for me and I'll binge on this,


                                                   the final season with you.


Bibliographical info

From Thrown in the Throat by Benjamin Garcia (Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions, 2020). Copyright © 2020 by Benjamin Garcia. Reprinted with permission from Milkweed Editions.

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