Tuesday Poem

Paul Violi

—What’ll it be?

Roast beef on rye, with tomato and mayo.

—Whaddaya want on it?

A swipe of mayo.
Pepper, but no salt.

—You got it. Roast beef on rye.
You want lettuce on that?

No, just tomato and mayo.

—Tomato and mayo. You got it.
. . . Salt and pepper?

No salt, just a little pepper.

—You got it. No salt.
You want tomato.

Yes. Tomato. No lettuce.

—No lettuce. You got it.
. . . No salt, right?

Right. No salt.

—You got it. –Pickle?

No, no pickle. Just tomato and mayo.
And pepper.


Yes, a little pepper.

—Right. A little pepper.
No pickle.

Right. No pickle.

—You got it.

Roast beef on whole wheat, please,
With lettuce, mayonnaise, and a center slice
Of beefsteak tomato.
The lettuce splayed, if you will,
In a Beaux Arts derivative of classical acanthus,
And the roast beef, thinly sliced, folded
In a multifoil arrangement
That eschews Bragdonian pretentions
Or any idea of divine geometric projection
For that matter, but simply provides
A setting for the tomato
To form a medallion with a dab
Of mayonnaise as a fleuron.
And—as eclectic as this may sound—
If the mayonnaise can also be applied
Along the crust in a Vitruvian scroll
And as a festoon below the medallion,
That would be swell.

—You mean like in the Cathedral St. Pierre in Geneva?

Yes, but the swag more like the one below the rosette
At the Royal Palace in Amsterdam.

—You got it.