ACT I
The first dog I ever loved
Was not one I personally owned
He taught me Spanish
Well, maybe he introduced me to it
Either way
He always made me laugh as a child
Escucha, salsa music
The man smiles
He knows paradise awaits.
¡Yo quiero Taco Bell!, is his mating call
I laugh, (jajajajaja)
Not realizing I am hooked for life.
ACT II
I remember in college
We used to pool our money
in my dorm, like communists
My mind played through the melody
the crunch of that first bite
Doritos locos tacos
Perfectly inauthentic.
I refresh myself with a Baja Blast
And a chicken quesadilla on the side
Live Mas
ACT III
T-Bell is the stoner’s booty call
No shame in its game
The others turn their noses up
We are thirty now.
So much negativity.
They are simply
Too good for crunch wraps
Chipotle is now their king
Screw it, its 2020
Chipotle is their kween.
For me it was just a phase
I stayed true to my roots
Succulent cinnamon twists
Volcano burritos. Chalupas.
Throw in some KFC biscuits.
My feast —
Thinks outside the bun.
***
Chris L. Butler is an African American and Dutch poet, essayist, and historian from Philadelphia, PA. His work has been featured in The Journal of International Relations and Diplomacy, Versification Magazine, Perhappened Mag, Trampset Magazine, Lucky Jefferson Literary Journal, Medium, The Daily Drunk Mag, and NewPages. He loves Taco Bell Quarterly, and misses being rejected by ThreePenny Review.
***
image: Jesse Hilson
Rejection Letters 