Emily Dickinson Orders Out
By Henry Rathvon
Illustration by Alex Nabaum
Because I could not shop for Bread
I called for Pizza Pie.
The box arrived. Beneath the lid
Was Immortality.
I mean, the cheeses numbered Three,
The sauce was red as Blood.
It struck me then that Good and Food
Don’t even rhyme. How Odd.
I ate the slices Two by Two,
Did not neglect the Bones.
Then went to bed. But in my sleep
I felt like Rolling Stones.
