One Month Later

It saddens me to think that such fine meat sauce went to waste on the streets of Chicago, U.S.A. Do not blame the wind. Blame whoever was so callous as to not send their leftovers to me.

P.S. If you find yourself in the same situation as the sicko who fled the scene above, I implore you: contact me. Honestly, there's something about eating someone else's undesired food. Think me unsavory if you will. But I feel it's not only an act of nourishment, or resourcefulness, but one of decent, heartfelt fulfillment. I speak of both parties here. One eats, the other is eaten: All are satisfied. It is as if I find a little orphan, lost and afraid on a park bench somewhere, and I place it into my mouth. Wait, that's not quite right... where's the backspace on this keyboa---