Food
is good,
food
is nice.
But
so is wood
and
so are mice,
if
you’re a carpenter
or cat, respectively.
And
come to that,
objectively
(if
come to that
we
have),
what salve does that
sad
creature
at
your knee seek
to
assuage his real
or
metaphoric injury –
while you consume
your
sandwich?
Is
there something
than
which
there's no better solace
than a sandwich
there's no better solace
than a sandwich
to appease him?
Perhaps.
But it’s not
up
to you
to please him. .
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